text: Check it
  Well its the M-I-crooked letter, aint no one better
  And when Im on the microphone you best to wear your sweater
  Cause Im cooler than a polar bears toenails
  Oh hell, there he go again talking that shit
  Bend corners like I was a curve, I struck a nerve
  And now you bout to see this Southern playa serve
  I heard its not where youre from but where you pay rent
  Then I heard its not what you make but how much you spent
  You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but Im not worried
  Cause when we step up in the party; like a mouse, you scurry
  So go get your fucking shine box and your sack of nickels
  It tickles to see you try to be like Mr. Pickles
  Daddy Fat Sax, B-I-G B-O-I
  Its that same motherfucka that took them knuckles to your eye
  And I try, to warn you not to test but you dont listen
  Giving the shout-out to my Uncle Darnell locked up in prison
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer
  Now, my oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation
  To the female gender, aint nothing better
  Let me know when its wet enough to enter
  If not Ill wait, because the future of the world depends on
  If or if not the child we raise gon have that nigga syndrome
  Or will it know to beat the odds regardless of the skin tone?
  Or will it feel that if we tune it, it just might get picked on?
  Or will it give a fuck about what others say and get gone?
  They alienate-us cause we different keep your hands to the sky
  Like Sounds of Blackness when I practice what I preach aint no lie
  Ill be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pie
  Now breaker, breaker 10-4 can I get some reply?
  Now everybody say
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer
  Every day I sit while my nigga be in school
  Thinking about the second album at the Dungeon shooting pool
  Like E-S to the P-N, cause we adjust to the beat in the zone 
  Honey, Im home but Im not married
  Carried a lot of problems around being frustrated
  And now Im sitting at the end of the month I just made it
  Like you made the B team, and like your daddys wife you making that coffee
  You heard the ATLiens, so back the hell up off me
  Softly as if I played piano in the dark
  Found a way to channel my anger now to embark
  The worlds a stage and everybody gots to play their part
  God works in mysterious ways, so when he starts
  The job of speaking through us, we be so sincere with this here
  No drugs or alcohol, so I can get the signal clear as day
  Put my Glock away, I got a stronger weapon
  That never runs out of ammunition, so Im ready for war, okay
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer
  Now throw your hands in the air
  And wave em like you just dont care
  And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
  Everybody let me hear you say, O-Yea-yer