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Correct Special Education Lyrics
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Artists: G
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Goodie Mob
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Correct Special Education
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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Big Gipp] They call him Gipp saga It’s the mutant, mister get down Live wire, words poke you like barbwire Maroon Range, sugar cane, oil stains My right leg longer than my left foot Put stripes next to squares, still peel the circle See spirits off of people, I don’t see color I’m a special mind, yeah, a special kind Conceived in the South at a special time Covered in leaves of gold Scripture written in scrolls Spoken so clearly in tongues So my children would come Look around Can’t you see The industry: they look like me [Hook: Janelle Monae] I don’t wear the clothes you wear I’m just different and I don’t care It’s kind of sad and it’s a shame Everyone wants to be the same If you are listening here and now I’m sure I can show you how It’s okay to be afraid Don’t you want to be special [Verse 2: Khujo] I’m so special, boy Try to went(?) stupid, dawg I eat nuclear waste and spit atomic bombs Plutonium explodes, that’s my trademark Mushroom clouds inside, call ‘em brain farts Gamma rays torch my system, now I’m going green G-force in my veins, pump hydrozine KT, 13, a microphone beam Cosmic juggernaut, extraterrestrial being Reign supreme, once conceived, boy, they broke the mold All this glory-seeking is getting totally outta control No one’s original, Attack of the Clones Invasion of the swagger-snatchers Aim for the dome [Hook] [Verse 3: Cee-Lo] Scientists stood around in silence as I was being born Was I quote, unquote special or was there something wrong My skin was black, my heart was gold, and my tongue was silver And the fact that I could talk already, that was a thriller And I fear what I don’t understand, so let me warn you Especially when nigga make too much noise about being normal Unusual but beautiful, the bondin’ blessing Summa Cum Laude, School of Exceptional Youth X-Men Let me put something poetic into plain English I’d rather die than to not be distinguished The outsiders have no desires to be equal When V.I.P. stands for “Very Insecure People” [Hook] [Verse 4: T-Mo] S.P.E.C.I.A.L. Heavyweight in the game, T tip the scale I travel over the world back to ATL I’m friends with the mayor, I’m a truthsayer A crusader, a natural-born raider I need a deejayer to be the illustrator Let’s get the dollar signs I said my Gucci rhymes I think it’s tea time Don’t need a co-sign T-Mo is on the grind, he about to let it shine Off in the skyline, don’t worry ’bout mine I can handle lies and watching third eyes I make ‘em go blind, I don’t deserve to rhyme [Hook]
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