Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mr. DJ
Mr. DJ
Scratches
Debra Killings
Debra Killings
Background Vocals
Jazzy Phat Nastee's
Jazzy Phat Nastee's
Background Vocals
André 3000
André 3000
Vocals
Arlynn Page
Arlynn Page
Background Vocals
Big Boi
Big Boi
Vocals
Dawn
Dawn
Background Vocals
Ray Murray
Ray Murray
Programming
Rico Wade
Rico Wade
Programming
Sleepy Brown
Sleepy Brown
Programming
Tracey Moore
Tracey Moore
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Antwan Patton
Antwan Patton
Songwriter
Patrick Brown
Patrick Brown
Songwriter
Ray Murray
Ray Murray
Songwriter
Rico Wade
Rico Wade
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Organized Noize
Organized Noize
Producer
John "Bernasky" Wall
John "Bernasky" Wall
Engineer
John Frye
John Frye
Engineer
Jarvis Blackshear
Jarvis Blackshear
Engineer
Derrick Williams
Derrick Williams
Engineer
Manuel K. Morris
Manuel K. Morris
Assistant Engineer
Brian Frye
Brian Frye
Assistant Engineer
Allen Parker
Allen Parker
Assistant Engineer
Dexter Simmons
Dexter Simmons
Mixing Engineer
Steve Sisco
Steve Sisco
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Alex Olsson
Alex Olsson
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Carlton Batts
Carlton Batts
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, yeah
Oh yes, I love her like Egyptian, want a description?
My royal highness
So many plusses when I bust that there can't be no minus
Went from yelling crickets and crows, bitches and hoes to queen thangs
Over the years I been up on my toes, and yes, I seen thangs
Like Kilroy, chill boy, because them folks might think you soft
Talking like that, man, fuck them ****, I'm going off
And coming right back like boomerangs when you throw 'em
With these old ghetto poems, thinking it's better for 'em
When they can let they thumb down from hitchhiking
Inviting **** into the temple they call the body
Now everybody got it
Had it, talked about amongst they friends
Coming around my crew looking jazzy, wanna pretend
Like you Miss Goody Four-Shoes
Even Bo knew that you got poked
Like acupuncture patients while our nation is a boat, straight sinking
I hate thinking that these the future mommas of our children
They fucking a different **** every time they get the feeling to
I'm willing to go the extra kilo
Meter just to see my señorita get her pillow
On the side of my bed where no good ever stayed
House and doctor was the games we used to play
But now it's real, Jazzy Belle
See what if you was a playa, real playa not no flaw
Having the very best of life, lots of steak and Perignon
Smoking an ounce of weed and every single day was personal freaknik
Tricking these hoes in Polo clothes, life as you conceived it
But your conception, deception
Looking into your eyes I see your weapon and it's depressing
They're digging up in your thighs
Leaving deposits, keeping your closets open
Knocking your boots and jaws
Hoping to get you sprung like bail bonds
Steadily calling me Antwan
'Cause you thinking that you my lady
Bitch, don't play me 'cause you're janky
I wanted to hit that ass but me and the goodie, we got danky
So thank me
For running that Southernplayalistic game
You was the only one to blame
My **** don't even know your name
It's a shame
You cracking 'em up and fucking a **** like 2Pac up
I'm leaving these foes to be
The flowers and wake don't get me, see
I gotta be feeding my daughter
Teach her to be that natural woman
'Cause you'll be waiting to exhale
While you other hoes be dumb and dumber
Know what I'm saying?
Check this out right here now
See me and old girl, in the black on black 'Lac, no star
Windows are tinted so that no one knows who us are
Talk bad about her ****, guaranteed to snap like bra
Strap, sticking together like grandma and grandpa-pa
In this dog eat dog world
Kitty cats be scratching on my furry coat to curl
Up with me and my bowl of kibbles and bits, I want to earl
'Cause most of the girls that we was liking in high school, now they dykeing
Having no mercy for the disrespectful ones, some
Be hanging around the crew looking for funds, dumb
Deaf and fine, they be asking me all about mine
How she do and how she be
I know she sipping that wine behind my back, they squawk like vultures
Off and on like trends of cultures, baby
Hey he, faking it like these sculptured
Nails, but they can go to hell and lay with Lucifer
'Cause they burning anyway, Big Boi user and abuser
Written by: André Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Patrick Brown, Ramon Ameer Murray, Rico Wade
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