Intro
Greetings, earthlings

Verse 1: Big Boi
From the bottom of my lungs a nigga be blowing
Spitting his game
Coming up on ya from the South, the A-T-Liens ain't changed
Cooler than most players claim to be
A nigga that's from the A-Town see
The home of the Bankhead Bounce
Campbellton Road and other city streets
Enough of the verality, fallacy, butter we speak not fiction
Speaking of pulling yo girl looking at Jheri curls you bitches
Everytime I rhyme for y'all, I'm looking to prove a point
Kicking a freestyle every now and then
But mostly off the joint
See I smoke good cause see it go good wit them flows, bwoi
The nigga the B-I-G like Tony Rich nobody knows why
But me and my folks, cause y'all niggas jokes like the Joker
I'm sick of these wack ass rappers like I'm tired of hoes in chokers

Hook: André 3000 & Peaches
Who them boys that be having it crunk every occasion
This side niggas dusting, that side niggas lacing
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs
Asking where we come from? South Coast slums
It's just two dope boys in a cadillac
It's just two dope boys in a cadillac

Verse 2: André 3000
This ol' sucka MC stepped up to me
Challenged André to a battle and I stood there patiently
As he spit and stumbled over cliches, so called freestyling
Whole purpose just to make me feel low, I guess you wilding
I say, "Look, boy, I ain't for that fuck shit—so fuck this"
"Let me explain 'only child' style so you don't dis'"
I grew up to myself not round no park bench
Just a nigga busting flows off in apartments

Hook: André 3000 & Peaches
Now who them boys that be having it crunk every occasion
This side niggas dusting, that side niggas lacing
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs
Asking where we come from? South Coast slums
It's just two dope boys in a cadillac
It's just two dope boys in a cadillac

Verse 3: Big Boi
It goes Broughams to the Fleetwoods, Coupes to De Villes
Hitting Girbauds and off these flows we having the playa chill
In this atmosphere this ain't no practice here
We cutting the fool now
I'm doing ya at the house and throwing you out because I'm through now
Don't you love the way we claiming Bankhead, stankhead
Looking around the SWATS for the herb that's never tainted
Fainted when you heard the burban serving on the block
And all you biting individuals need to check yourselfs and stop

Verse 4: André 3000
Yeah, tight like nuts and bolts, sluts and hoes they get evicted
I'm dealing wit Queens in my castle—ain't worth it to risk it
Now tricks be looking at me like I'm they way up out the projects
Can't put you on my payroll, and no I ain't got no Rolex
Or no diamond; at the exit with a sign saying "We'll rap for food"
My face is bawled up cause I ain't in a happy mood
While my partner got the squeegee and the Windex
'Cause somewhere in my life I done went wrong just like a syntax error
Bring the terror to your dome like PE
Prone to finish this out cause this be a freestyle

Hook: André 3000
Now who them boys that be having the crunk every occasion?
This side niggas dustin', that side niggas lacin'
But in the middle we stay calm
We just drop–
(Explosion)