Released: May 18, 1999
Featuring: OutKast
Songwriter: Mr. DJ Big Boi André 3000 MJG 8Ball
Producer: Mr. DJ
[Verse 1: Eightball]
Bitch, I ain't got nothing but time
So I'mma get out on these cuts and grind
Keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine
My player ways keep me with plenty dimes
See I'mma shine like all six of my gold teeth
When a nigga get through cooking up this O-Z
All night on the block 'til the sun rise
My only friend is a Glock with the 4-5
Four, five in the mornin', it don't stop
Daydreamin' 'bout flossin' a drop top (woop)
Blue lights snap me back to reality
I hit the alley quick and toss what I got on me
Tricks ain't got shit to do but harass
Searched a nigga and took about a three in cash
I guess that's better than gettin locked up
Or gettin jammed with that shit I had rocked up, huh!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 2: MJG]
I got a maid cooking grits with a, outfit
So tight my niggas wanna stay the whole nite
Dice game in the kitchen, nigga, T. Lee
Nigga drunk singin' sounding like the Bee Gees
Ham sam'ich in the driveway, drop top
Naked women in the den playing, hop scotch
Thirty bustas in my yard, they be, long gone
So hit me and I'mma keep my, phone on
I be out turning corners, dranking, one fifth
Got some scratches on my rims, 'cause of one dip
Met a broad yesterday, she hit me, ten times
If I diss her it'll take a nigga, ten lines
MJG standing tall and I, won't fold
You can have all the bitches, 'cause I, don't hold
On to any woman like a human handcuff
You got ya hair down, baby, fuck it, stand up!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 3: Big Boi]
How many flows can I compose? I drop this slang like lyrical 'bows
Stickin' out just like an OUTKAST or a thorn from stem of rose
Like nachos, the lyrics are crispy, crackin' when y'all bite
Been had a Coke and a smile, now I'm trippin off Yak & Sprite
Y'all just might see the skunk guy, with a girl who chunked thighed
Below the Mason-Dixon line, real niggas know what I'm talkin' about
From Texas, Atlanta, oh man, Alabama, Savannah
The deeper, the darker, the Dirty South is what I'm after
No laughter, the content of the rhyme may be contagious
The Space Age is pimpin this, players comin' major
They shot the sucka, sprayed ya, cut ya wife and played her
The player the B-I-G B-O-I, dope boy rhyme maker
Beats, rhymes, and layers of music right here to please you
And if you hate the Dirty, then patna, see we don't need you
You know I'm talkin 'bout?
OutKast, Eightball, MJG on y'all punk motherfuckers!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 4: Andre 3000]
You wouldn't understand, if you stood under it (ooh)
It's like the more that I talk to you, the dumber that I get
The closer that I walk to you, the further that we stand
Apart, distant
Nobody has the upper hand but my body's resistant
So now, throw your phalanges in the ground
I'm still abound, un-believers stay from hell around
I found negative niggas they only keep ya down
Transmitting from Native American burial ground
I carry around, the weight of all worlds on my shoulder pads
I'm post to blast, space invaders up somebody's dad
Serious as Aa-Bb-Cc
If knowledge be the key then buddy roasted on the porch
And wait for ya momma to get off work so she can roast yo' ass
They need to find an open window fast
Word to the motherfucker; word to the motherfucker
Word to the motherfucker!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
Bitch, I ain't got nothing but time
So I'mma get out on these cuts and grind
Keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine
My player ways keep me with plenty dimes
See I'mma shine like all six of my gold teeth
When a nigga get through cooking up this O-Z
All night on the block 'til the sun rise
My only friend is a Glock with the 4-5
Four, five in the mornin', it don't stop
Daydreamin' 'bout flossin' a drop top (woop)
Blue lights snap me back to reality
I hit the alley quick and toss what I got on me
Tricks ain't got shit to do but harass
Searched a nigga and took about a three in cash
I guess that's better than gettin locked up
Or gettin jammed with that shit I had rocked up, huh!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 2: MJG]
I got a maid cooking grits with a, outfit
So tight my niggas wanna stay the whole nite
Dice game in the kitchen, nigga, T. Lee
Nigga drunk singin' sounding like the Bee Gees
Ham sam'ich in the driveway, drop top
Naked women in the den playing, hop scotch
Thirty bustas in my yard, they be, long gone
So hit me and I'mma keep my, phone on
I be out turning corners, dranking, one fifth
Got some scratches on my rims, 'cause of one dip
Met a broad yesterday, she hit me, ten times
If I diss her it'll take a nigga, ten lines
MJG standing tall and I, won't fold
You can have all the bitches, 'cause I, don't hold
On to any woman like a human handcuff
You got ya hair down, baby, fuck it, stand up!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 3: Big Boi]
How many flows can I compose? I drop this slang like lyrical 'bows
Stickin' out just like an OUTKAST or a thorn from stem of rose
Like nachos, the lyrics are crispy, crackin' when y'all bite
Been had a Coke and a smile, now I'm trippin off Yak & Sprite
Y'all just might see the skunk guy, with a girl who chunked thighed
Below the Mason-Dixon line, real niggas know what I'm talkin' about
From Texas, Atlanta, oh man, Alabama, Savannah
The deeper, the darker, the Dirty South is what I'm after
No laughter, the content of the rhyme may be contagious
The Space Age is pimpin this, players comin' major
They shot the sucka, sprayed ya, cut ya wife and played her
The player the B-I-G B-O-I, dope boy rhyme maker
Beats, rhymes, and layers of music right here to please you
And if you hate the Dirty, then patna, see we don't need you
You know I'm talkin 'bout?
OutKast, Eightball, MJG on y'all punk motherfuckers!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
[Verse 4: Andre 3000]
You wouldn't understand, if you stood under it (ooh)
It's like the more that I talk to you, the dumber that I get
The closer that I walk to you, the further that we stand
Apart, distant
Nobody has the upper hand but my body's resistant
So now, throw your phalanges in the ground
I'm still abound, un-believers stay from hell around
I found negative niggas they only keep ya down
Transmitting from Native American burial ground
I carry around, the weight of all worlds on my shoulder pads
I'm post to blast, space invaders up somebody's dad
Serious as Aa-Bb-Cc
If knowledge be the key then buddy roasted on the porch
And wait for ya momma to get off work so she can roast yo' ass
They need to find an open window fast
Word to the motherfucker; word to the motherfucker
Word to the motherfucker!
[Chorus: MJG + Eightball]
Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke some
Whips cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act, how we act
Gold teeth and heavy Chevys, and talking slow
Afros and loud ass Italian clothes
People barbecuein' in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
From the albums
- In Our Lifetime (1999)
- We Are The South: Greatest Hits (2008)