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Correct Tomb Of The Boom Lyrics
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Speakerboxxx
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Correct Tomb Of The Boom
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Lyrics:
Speakerbox, yo Just so you all know what time it is, it's your homeboy Straight from the A-T, I ain't even goin' say the motherfuckin' rest What you know? We Dungeon Family all day long baby We fin'a break you off with some brand new shit Ya ya ya ya, this rap game lovely Konkrete play a part 'cause the Feds want to bug me Athletes want to be rappers, shawty, trust me Bendin' corners in the Benz, ridin' like a bucket, nigga fuck it I know some hoes slutty I optioned a bitch off like a nigga playin' rugby I done seen a ghetto meal, little buddy, trust me Jump European, came clean through customs, no questions Perpetrators in the booth, rappin' lame like they drug related It made me sick to my stomach, lost a two and had a baby You don't grind, you be lyin' She'll be castrated, Lorena Bobitt maybe Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom Servin' up emotion once you deep inside the tomb Embryo to newborn, you can feel me in the womb Cool, ooh, that's cool You see, I cock back glocks, got more pull than slang shots Hit G spots by givin' hoes back shots I'm a young country boy, long socks with flip flops But I pull up on your block in the 500 Benz drop Konkrete, Aquemini, we takin' this here to the top Bust like balloons, who gives a damn if it goes pop You say it's hot, well let me turn it up another notch To my real niggaz, won't you pump this out your Speakerbox? Fuck the cops, we makin' noise and we won't stop Bump, bump, there goes the boom and it's goin'' drop Old school, big shoes, nigga, no socks We keep tools, see fools, bullets will flock They call me Mr. Ravioli, Mr. Scrotum, Mr. Poke Em with the Noodle Mr. Cockerspanielle in Your Poodle, after school tutor Roto Rooter, addicted to follies Like brown collies, stay soft fro crows Swimmin' in the fallopian of an Ethiopian Talkin' a different language, RBI fly wide Come to me now, 84 hard, 84 soft wit me now Beautiful ladies, they want to walk wit me now Talk wit me now Push a glock for me now, sale cock for me now Fight a bitch, hit her in the eye for me now See you when I see you, now out wit me now Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom Servin' up emotion once you deep inside the tomb Embryo to newborn, you can feel me in the womb Cool, ooh, that's cool I will never fall off, I haul off heavy weight Fuck wit me dog, I chop you up like Norman Bates I'm true to this shit, I ain't new to this shit Over a million sold on strictly weed and bricks Flammable like gasoline when I'm lit up I prefer my liquor dark and a mean white slut It's over for you, cavern ass rapper, get out the game You can fool the record labels but not the street fame I just tell it how I see it nigga, fact is fact The first verse I ever wrote, I got a Platinum plaque I've been to hell and back so nigga give me my props Konkrete and Big Boi beatin' through your Speakerbox Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom Servin' up emotion once you deep inside the tomb Embryo to newborn, you can feel me in the womb Cool, ooh, that's cool Ludacris, yeah I keep a glock in case you like to leak alot Meanwhile, crankin' the volume knob up on my Speakerbox "So here he is", get the fuck on the ground Is just a phase you might hear strollin' through the A-Town They don't believe, I will stab them in the abdomen From College Park, Georgia to College Park, Maryland So put your fist up boy, I wanna romp You can Bankhead Bounce or get East side Stomped Thinkin' way back before I got mine Puttin' bullet holes through neighborhood stop signs Feel wild, it's my adrenaline, yes, ladies and gentleman A hundred though, bitch, diamonds shimmerin' Catch me with a sack of dro, reachin' for the strap below I'm with some nasty hoes, eatin' pistachios Y'all drivin' Subarus, stuck in your cubicles I'm stuck in the air with weed crumbs under my cuticles Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom Servin' up emotion once you deep inside the tomb Embryo to newborn, you can feel me in the womb Cool, ooh, that's cool Fourth and goal Should I take the three point field goal for the score or should I roll? Around and take the ball up the middle up the gut, the what, the hole Cranium overload, overthrowed Now we got seven more points on the board, fa sho B, I, G, B, O, I, me oh my, I think he's blessin' me Excelling in harmonious melody, boy we got the recipe Like Ragu, it's in there, givin' you some of the best of me Player, pimp, gangster, poet We goin'' spit it, we goin'' show it to your ass "You're a champion," were my dad's last words before he passed But I know one day we will once more cross paths They say "Big Boi, can you pull it off without your nigga Dre?" I say, "People, stop the madness 'cause me and Dre be okay" OutKast, Cell Therapy to cell division We just split it down the middle so you can see both the visions Been spittin' it damn near ten years, why the fuck would be quittin'? Fuck, nigga
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