[Verse 1: Cool Breeze] I call da crib they say "Breeze you ain't know?" I say "What?" "Big Time got popped in his Benzo!" I said "Damn man, I'm riding in his Lexus I'm bout to dump this nigga's shit in New Dimensions Get to the crib so I can call Big Slate up And tell em da money man done slipped and got his throat cut And everything that we took from the warehouse I heard somebody talkin 'bout it at the White House Man I thought you said that this job was for me and you I ain't know that Bill Clampett wanted some too You tell his folks that I'm sorry bout that Lexus I'm 'bout to dip and see my sister up in... naaah! Can't even tell you where I put my extra playa card Cause them Red Dog police know we homeboys Just tell everybody who us a dime It's the Great Hoe Round Up Yo' Money time I got to HAVE MINE, then I'm OUTTA HERE Take a loss, come back up just like Coco Grier Ain't got to worry bout yo' potnah gettin caught like a lame It won't be over til that big girl from Decatur sang" (It won't be over till that big girl from Decatur sang! East Pointe police don't know a damn thang...) [Verse 2: Big Boi] Yeah, it won't be over Check this out Can you see what I be hearin talkin to spirits when I sleep Peep this out real quick Slick, we gets on this beat and speak about that pimp shit, that walk with dat limp shit, that hemp shit Lookin up in your face I see a coward and a dimwit Lookin to run up in my private home just like you was the folks Servin a warrant to a baby daddy, who do they come to quote? On a Tuesday, April Fool's Day, don't get caught slippin Leavin the keys off in the ignition, makin me guilty by suspicion Penny pinchers tryin to stack for ninety-six Buyin another Fleetwood, Diamond took it, so know we's in the mix I need to take my ass to the crib and drop the baby off Cause them niggaz at the corner sto' been lookin at me for too long Starin like accidents on highways, high days are better than sober ones Don't be biased, but I know it has to come So I put two in the sky to let them know I'm babysittin Y'all don't know nothin bout Big Boi cause that nigga steady dippin It ain't over (why that, why that) till the bitch open her mouth up and sang... [Verse 3: Big Gipp] Took me a long time to get here Long time man I'm talkin about, years, and years Riding past funeral fields holdin bodies of my peers If you don't educate yourself Now how the fuck you gonna understand how you posed to get paid? Niggaz walk around get with shade tree ass ways Fuck a fade, let my hair drag Back and forth like a see-saw Jumpin Lily, to lilypad dad Lookin to get my Goodie feel I'm broke in like some old men Who'd stop dem or would stop I'm droppin lines for the big plot Sixteen is when I started to dream It's ninety-six I'm in your face Can you hear that bitch scream? (It won't be over til that big girl from Decatur sang...)
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