Bombs Over Baghdad lyrics

Artist  : Outkast 
Song : Bombs Over Baghdad
 


[Dre]
Yeah!
Inter-national,
underground
Thunder pounds when I stomp the
ground
(Woo!) Like a million elephants that
sit with back
Orangutan, you can't stop a
train
Who want some? Don't come
un-pre-pared
I'll be there, but when I leave
there
Better be a household name
Weather
man tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we
sittin' in a drop-top, soaken' wet
In a silk
suit, tryin' not to sweat
Hit summersaults
without the net
But this'll be the year that
we won't forget
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, with a
brother anything goes, be what 'chu wanna
be
Long as you know consequences, to give and
for livin' defenses
Too hot, I'm jumpin'
jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch
hell
HOT! Get a life, now they gon'
sell
Then I might catch you a spell, look at
what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and
Hammer, so grow grid and some baby mma
Black
Cadillac and a pack of pampers, stack of question
with no answers
Cure for cancer, cure for
AIDS
Make a nigga wanna stay onto it for
days
Get back home, things are wrong
We're
not really able to spend all alone
before he
left, (?), to a ball of power
Thousands of
thousands miles per hour
Hello, ghetto, let
your brain breath,
believe there's always
more
Ahhhhh!

Chorus: 2X
[Dre] Don't
pull the thang out, unless you plan to
bang
{Choir} Bombs over Baghdad!
[Dre]
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang unless you
plan to hit something
{Choir} Bombs over
Baghdad!
{Dre} Yeah! Uhh-huh

[Big
Boi]
Uno, dos, tres, it's on
Did you ever
think a pimp rock a microphone?
Like that
there boy and will still stay street
Big
things happen every time we meet
Like a track
team, crack fiend, dying of heat
Outkast
bumpin' up and down the street
Slam back,
Cadillac, 'bout five nigga deep,
Seventy-five
emcee's freestylin' to tha beat
'Cause we get
crossed and drunk at the club
Should have
bought an ounce, but you caught the dub
Should
have held back, but you throwed the
punch
'Spose to meet your girl but you packed
a lunch
No D to-the U to-the G for you
Got
a son on the way by the name of Bamboo
Got a
little baby girl four year, Jordan
Never turn
my back on my kids for them
Should have hit it
(hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top
(top)
Before you read up, get a laptop
Make
a business for yourself, boy, set some
goals
Make a fair dime out of dusty
coal
Record number four, but we on a
roll
Hold up, slow up, stop, control
Like
Janet, planets, stankonia is on ya
A movin'
like floor commin' straight to Florida
Lock
all your windows then block the
quarters
Pullin' off on bell 'cause a whippins
in order
Like a three piece fist, 'fore I cut
your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit
the border
Penny pap rappers tryin' to get the
five
I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay
alive
When you commin' to A-T-L, but you bet'
not hide
'Cause the dungeon family gonna
ride
Hah!

Chorus: 2X
[Dre] Don't
pull the thang out, unless you plan to
bang
{Choir} Bombs over Baghdad!
[Dre]
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang unless you
plan to hit something
{Choir} Bombs over
Baghdad!
{Dre} Yeah!
Uhh-huh

{Choir}
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over
Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah

[Dre and Big Boi]: 16X
Bob your
head. Rag top.

{Choir}: 23X
Bible
music. Electric revival.