Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone
Like that there boy and we still stay street
Big things happen everytime we meet
Like a track team, crack fiend, dyin’ to geek
Outkast bumpin’ up and down the street
Slant back, Cadillac, ’bout five niggas deep
Seventy-five mc’s freestylin’ to the beat
Cause we get crunk, stay drunk, at the club
Should have bought an ounce, but you copped a dub
Should have held back, but cha threw the punch
‘Spose to meet your girl but cha packed a lunch
No D to-the U to-the G for you
Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo
Got a little baby girl four year, Jordan
Never turn my back on my kids, there for them
Should have hit it, quit it, rag top
Before you read up, get a laptop
Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals
Make a fair diamond out of dusty coals
Record number four, but we on the road
Hold up, slow up, stop, control
Like Janet, planet Stankonias on ya
Movin’ like floyd comin’ straight to Florida
Lock all your windows then block the corridors
Pullin’ off my belt cause a whippins in order
I like a three-piece fish before I cut your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then i hit the border
Pity pat rappers tryin’ to get the five
on my microphone name tryin’ to stay alive
When you come to A-T-L boy you better not hide
Cause the Dungeon Family gone ride
High!