text: Hello, well good evening, ladies and gentlemen
  What we like to do right here—well first of all, let me let you know who I am
  Well, I go by the name of André 3000, right?
  And we come from a little place called like Stankonia, Georgia, right?
  You know, right now everybody wants to be from space
  And like want to be from the country and everything like that
  You know, like, really, like, the South
  Its like cool to be from the South right about now
  Girls, listen up
  Torn between Saturday night and early Sunday morn
  I dont know, Im somewhere stuck in between-tween
  Im out here knowin hip-hop is dead
  The average nigga on my corner yellin
  What the fuck you mean-mean?
  See, we aint even seen the mountaintop
  Counterclockwise goes the neighborhood
  Hand-me-downs and canned goods
  Wont cut the Grey Poupon
  We got to make you run, back to the drawing board
  Cant afford to lose, yall make me yawn
  1/1/91... my teacher sees potential in me, said, Sit down, son
  And let me tell you like I heard it when I felt deserted
  It wasnt no other way to word it, got my feelings murdered
  By the bullet of bad, the singer of sad
  Songs to make you long for your mom and your dad
  Plaid clash with polka dots, I hope you aint mad
  Back up, little mama, Im about to react
  Yup, we aint just funkin around, ah-ah
  No, you dont want to see me clown, ah-ah
  No, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
  People have ya party, but please dont be late
  Its time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Hey sexy mama, theres no time to waste
  Its time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Grab your partner, roll around, and feel the sound, ah baby
  People have ya party, and dont be late
  Its time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Bounce, rock, roller-skate
  While Scotty is beamin, lil Pookie nem schemin
  Whats the use of living, my nigga?
  While you snoozing, Im dreamin, Im Tylenol PM
  You amount to the same thing every day like per diem
  Never tryin to be nothing but a damn What youre being
  One nation under the cool should be the rule
  Whether young man or young lady begins or starts grade school
  Silence before violence
  Nine times out of ten times, the quietest is the livest
  Fumblin through your privates
  Daddy Fat Sax, can they have your back? Naw!
  Ooh! Youre such a playa
  Ooh! Your Southern drawl got me sprawled out
  In your black book, my name was crossed out
  Went from starting to second-string, now in the doghouse 
  Reminiscing, the party you was missing
  Instead of arguments, you think about the hugs and kisses
  If this is something hard for you to take
  You better bounce, rock, roller-skate
  Yup, we aint just funkin around, ah-ah
  No, you dont want to see me clown, ah-ah
  No, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
  Yup, we aint just funkin around, ah-ah