Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Edward Stroud
Edward Stroud
Guitar
Preston Crump
Preston Crump
Bass Guitar
Kenneth Wright
Kenneth Wright
Piano
Jeff Sparks
Jeff Sparks
Saxophone
Society of Soul
Society of Soul
Background Vocals
Debra Killings
Debra Killings
Background Vocals
Brandon Bennett
Brandon Bennett
Background Vocals
Tony "T-Bone" Hightower
Tony "T-Bone" Hightower
Background Vocals
André 3000
André 3000
Vocals
Big Boi
Big Boi
Vocals
Grover Washington, Jr.
Grover Washington, Jr.
Sampled Artist
Ray Murray
Ray Murray
Programming
Rico Wade
Rico Wade
Programming
Sleepy Brown
Sleepy Brown
Programming
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
NHP Sound, Inc.
NHP Sound, Inc.
Recording Engineer
Sean "Shy Boy" Davis
Sean "Shy Boy" Davis
Recording Engineer
Mark Hawley
Mark Hawley
Assistant Engineer
John "Bernasky" Wall
John "Bernasky" Wall
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Leslie Brathwaite
Leslie Brathwaite
Assistant Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Well, it's the M-I-crooked letter comin' around the South
Rollin' straight Hammers and Vogues in that old Southern slouch
Please, ain't nothin' but incense in my atmosphere
I'm bendin' corners in my 'Lac, boy, 'cause that's how we be rollin' here
Deep, the slang is in effect because it's Georgia
Kickin' the khakis and Adidas, packin' yo' heaters 'cause you s'posed to, cousin
Catfish and grits is how my flow flows
Rollin' steady in that Caddy but them 50 bottles got to go
See, juice and gin used to be my friend from the beginnin'
Now I'm just a player sippin' sauce every now and then
To catch a buzz like a bumble bee, **** who tried to fuck with me
Get sprayed like Raid 'cause it ain't nothin' to see
[Verse 2]
My heat is in the trunk along with that quad knock
No, my heart don't pump no Kool-Aid, jump and you'll get too sprayed
Who raise yo' block? The one and only OutKast
Many a **** fallin' fast and I continue blastin', swiftly
They ain't gon' get me, got somethin' fo' em
The devil up in yo' grill and you still don't even know 'em
Show 'em who's the okay, like collard greens and Hoecakes, I got soul
That's somethin' that you ain't got, that's why your style is rot–ten
Stop in the land of ATL
Where nothin' but pimps fully equipped quick to make a sale
Swell, swollen got my pockets, business boomin' like rockets
Folks try to stop it but they know that it's that
[Chorus]
Southernplayalisticadillacfunkymuzik
Now, players if you choose it, you better make sure you don't abuse it
We're gonna get ya high (Southernplayalistic)
High (Southernplayalistic)
[Verse 3]
Time to drop these 'bows like Dusty Rhodes
Then I yell "ho," and knock 'em up off they feet Like a Southern hustler 'posed to do
I's in the house like, house like a joint is lit for my kinfolks
And all the **** that was down since we been broke
Takin' 'em deeper than a submarine
So scream when you hear the team of two
My crew be thick as two fat hoes sittin' off in a Brougham
I'm packin' my tag backwards if you wanna be actin' wrong
Word is bond like super glue, it's funky like pooper scoop
And every word I say, you can true
[Verse 4]
Well, okey dokey, 'Kast out, I swear to God I got the highest boomin' Cadillac
The expialalistic Coupe de Ville, can you handle that, you rat?
I take my time cruisin' 'round the city malls
And under my seat for you suckers is your final curtain call
The one two to the gauge, P-U-M-P
You want to do a jack, I heat the barrel till it's empty, get me?
See, I ain't friendly, gettin' in where I fit
Organized is on the track with the Southernplayalistic shit
So copy my slang and bite my shit but don't try gafflin' me
'Cause sleep and you'll get served with some Southern hospitality
[Chorus]
It's that Southernplayalisticadillacfunkymuzik
Now, players if you choose it, you better make sure you don't abuse it
We're gonna get ya high (Southernplayalistic)
High (Southernplayalistic)
[Verse 5]
Well, Southernplayalisticadillacmusik has been laid
I may wait for all day and day, be rollin' like that today, ho
So back up off it, get up on it if you want it, y'all
Lookin' for hoes and snitches was my thing on Player's Ball, yup
So now I step, rather walk with the pimp limp
While my **** are at East Point with that College Park hemp
Smoked out is how I wanna end it on this track
So I pass it to my partner and step back up in my Cadillac
[Verse 6]
Step up in my shoes, you crews sittin' on Trues
And Vogues for the hoes only when we rollin' through
Atlanta skies be blue, the sun is beamin' it's seemin'
That I'm glistenin', rather gleamin'
20/20 got me leanin' to the side, full of pride, now ain't that somethin'?
I'm dippin' into your hood, this ain't Braille, but I'm bumpin'
Thumpin' out the roaches, Dungeon if y'all missed it
Big Gipp, Goodie Mob, P.A., OutKast, Southernplayalistic
[Chorus]
It's that Southernplayalisticadillacfunkymuzik
Now, players if you choose it, you better make sure you don't abuse it
We're gonna get ya high (Southernplayalistic)
High (Southernplayalistic)
It's that Southernplayalisticadillacfunkymuzik
Now, players if you choose it, you better make sure you don't abuse it
We're gonna get ya high (Southernplayalistic)
High (Southernplayalistic)
It's that Southernplayalisticadillacfunkymuzik
Now, players if you choose it, you better make sure you don't abuse it
We're gonna get ya high (Southernplayalistic)
High (Southernplayalistic)
Written by: André Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Organized Noize
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