Released: July 6, 2010

Featuring: Yelawolf

Songwriter: Big Boi André 3000 Yelawolf

Producer: André 3000

[Intro: Big Boi]
Boy, stop!
You ain't no DJ

[Verse 1: Big Boi]
I double dare, matter of fact, nigga, I double dog dare
Any rapper to take it there with this player here
Let's be clear, I'm a leader, not your peer
Valedictorian of this rap shit every year (year, year, year)
Like beer and pretzels with the game, I go good
I'm the Hansel to your Gretel, you's a dame, understood?
Overstand, ho ass nigga from my hood, I'm embarrassed
By the lack of class, sat in the back of class
But passed with flying colors with yo' backwards ass
You're like the caboose and I'm the engine locomotive
To let loose steam in the booth, scream, awooo!
Dream Team, nigga, fuck that pillow talk, keep sleeping
While I'm beating down yo' street up in that green thing
Greetings, Earthlings, I've been lurking deep in the shadows
Gathering artillery for the battle
Now, on the front line, I stand, microphone in my right hand
Left foot on the gas, don't make me put my foot in yo' ass

[Hook: Big Boi]
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go

[Verse 2: Yelawolf]
My momma gave birth to a 10-pound, 6-ounce dream
And God said look for the burning bush, now I turned to weed
So I jumped in my shell when I saw my momma burning trees
Hard white, I trickle nickel bags
Ice cold true shit, in the booth with blue lips
On your grave like a tulip, in the bar like a pool stick
808 Toomp shit, Magic Mike, poof, bitch
Ain't nowhere to rest, nowhere for you to sit
I stole your couch and I took your truck to move it with
Sofa any one of you wanna get to' up
I'mma tattoo, Kodak you, close up
Ain't no UFO, no, Yela's a supernova
Dogs are barking as soon as that trooper roll up
30 aught 6, Momma, don't gotta load up
'Cause I'm from The Varsity, it may be hard to get RC Cola, hold up

[Hook: Big Boi]
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go

[Verse 3: Yelawolf]
Yeah and I party in poverty with people like
"Yeah, you're famous, so what?
I bet you can't hitch that semi up to this tow truck"
Rich with a hundred dollars, soul like a batch of collards
Yeah, I'm pale but I'll impale you with an Impala
Roll with pimp scholars, ATLiens
A-L-A-B-A-M-A agains, come and check my weight again
Baby, I know I ain't that crazy, the scale says heavy
Must be my dick the way bitches been hanging on it lately

[Verse 4: Big Boi]
Yeah, we stay banging on the daily, soul funk crusader maybe
Tailored alligator soufflé, escalade all in yo' ladies
Space invader, I'm the lyrical Darth Vader
Give thanks, pussy nigga, I don't expose you as a hater
Got Decatur, East Point, College Park and the SWATs
Campbellton Road closed, road block, watch out for the cops
Gotta think outside the box, know how to connect the dots
'Fore somebody hit the jackpot playing in your slot, boy, stop

[Hook: Big Boi]
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just make them fucking mixtapes
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Where they at? Where they at? Where they at?
Yo DJ ain't no DJ, he just hit that instant replay
There they go, there they go, there they go, there they go
There they go, there they go, there they go

[Skit]
Wassup, Keisha?
Who dis?
You know who it is, the most feared man in [?], you know who I be... motherfuckin' Henry, Henry
Henry? What, what you drivin', Henry?
I wouldn't drive, my momma drop me off
I'mma do how it in sandals, the "Jesus Walks" sandals, I stand outside of the club
"Jesus Walks" sandals?
Yeah, you know Jesus wore sandals so I can wear some too with my little linen outfit, you saw me! The baller
You can tell I'm gon' make it rain, I got them 31s, you come on over here, I'm gon' make it rain on you
Nigga, make it rain on this tank
What tank?
The tank of gas and what you got on it
You never had 30 dollars worth of gas in your tank!
Fuck you livin'? I live out here in Duluth, gas and that damn–
Duluth? Nigga, that's out of the perimeter, mm-hm, you put 50 on at least
I'm so tired of you [?] hairy cold-ass hoes, man
Y'all ain't never seen anything, you gotta move around 285, get the fuck out of down that area
Nigga, ain't nothing out of 285 but fuckin' trees
Mm-hm, 50 on the tank
I'll give you 50 dollars and a blunt of kush and I'mma fuck that mohawk off your head
Mm-hm, you can fuck me, give me 50 dollars, and go 'head give me some kush
For 30 dollars, you gon' do the fuck I want you to do!
I'mma make 'em fill up your tank for 30 dollars
30, nigga? You talked 50
I'm gonna make it rain, bitch, tell me
Nah, nah, we stay at 50, how I go down to 30
Well, okay, it gon' be drizzlin' then, it ain't gon' rains, fuck it
Ayy? It gon' be drizzly
Mm-hm, nigga, that ain't participation, mm-hm, no, mm-hm

Big Boi

One half of the legendary OutKast machine and the one and only Daddy Fat Sax Sir Lucious Left Foot Soul Funk Crusader.