text: Everbody on the streets
  This a little thesis coming from me
  When I throw up baguettes, sitting at the bar
  Or smoking a little red life in my car
  I dont know what you came to see
  Nigga just out here feeding my kids
  Throw up the duece and let me slide on by
  Cause everybody wants to be a tough guy
  Cruising down the street, minding my business cause Im trill
  Stopped at the ATM, grabbed a thousand dollar bill
  Now I peel like apples and peaches because Im chill
  And niggas around my city respect me because Im real
  But still the things I see from day to day it irks me
  When Im off in the 79 Seville or the Bonneville
  Niggas wanna hurt me, absurd G
  I know it, betta believe I tote something for it
  And I got a slogan like Nike but it goes like this, just know it
  And Im not the type of person be riding around your block just flashy
  Just came to the store to get some black and milds and a lil bit of 93 gas,G
  Wanna blast me, get sassy, say negative things about OutKast G
  Riding all on a nigga dick, all you had to do was just dap me, come slap me
  You the bad man, so go ahead and touch my cheek then
  But well be burying you and your whole motherfucking family by the weekend
  Im calling your bluff, go on and buck, I got my squad we trapping
  Aye C-bone gone slap this nigga, he aint bucking, he just yapping, yea
  Say, we took it from packing the pistols
  To jacking this missiles, to stacking my crystals
  Now my torpedos even cracking your missile
  When we start, aint no stopping us
  We too smart and too popular
  Take your toys and we topple em
  Resort to the dopplar
  To the agent underground well known as Stankonia
  Where trill as niggas go one and bad ass bitches be boning ya
  Im warning you, niggas ill fill the middle of your moany
  And make yo broad lick her pony up, its that platinum shit
  Called zonia, tell Tommy blow me up
  I aint Mariah, bitch Im the messiah cant no motherfucker show me up
  UGK a set nigga, throw me up
  Fuck catching a case bitch, ill lace you and your homey up
  Cause we the cream coming out of the crop
  The steam coming out of the pot and the team coming out at the top
  Your baddest or not, these niggas getting shattered or shot
  Splattered for props, man you shouldntve left your gat at your spot
  Pimp C bitch Im a country star
  I got a country mansion and a country car
  I got a country bitch, I made a country son
  I got some country nuts, I keep a country gun
  I dont fuck with nobody in this shit but Bun
  So if you pay me a mil, you gotta give that nigga one
  Fuck boys talk shit, but them bitch niggas know
  And UGK run the streets and we put dick in your ho
  Whether weed or blow, I keep an open store
  I keep my hair cut low, .44 on the floor
  You can test me Snow, we got the glass for sho
  Get your mind on your money, cause you playing with your dough
  Bitches who ready to go, say you moving to slow
  If you wasnt bout sucking it, what you fucking with me for
  The quarters in the side in case you didnt know
  Im Sweet Jones Bitch and Im an old school pro, pro, pro
  Since the beginning of time, up to the present of now
  There are beauty shop playas also intelligent clowns
  Got they blue cuts with brown, booty grinding the ground
  Its the sound thats created when we get up to get down
  Stimulate my imag-ination with exag-geration of stanking light
  That cant be right but we laughed
  To keep from crying, sighing, hugged by cutie-pie and
  Death defying acts of a Blacks not scared of dying
  Yall act like you never take no bubble bath
  Gone to Blockbuster and act like you aint never cuddled after
  You poked her, stroked, soaked her, provoked her
  To reach for the sky when shes high on your holster
  Im posed to, roast you, toast you, close you
  Motherfucking mouth for Im almost closed to the end
  So when they ask you what school do you attend
  Say Stankonia High, then throw two in the wind