Wailin'

[Big Boi:]
In the zone like Keyser Söze, always the Usual Suspect
No check, all I got in this game is my respect
And Southern pride, I'd be, checking my fucking head
Scared, looking up in your face, boy, I see dead
If you test like SAT, then I guess that we may be
Enemies in the P's, freestyles be freebies
I be that wrong nigga to fuck with, wouldn't I?
Wouldn't I be the wrong one to try, never eating chicken thighs
Only the twenty piece mojo, flows on like Flo Jo
I wanted to figure out, just how low could your hoe go
The beat hit like Beat Street, Krush Groove and Breakin'
Never baking, rebuking Satan, we had you waiting
For the Second Coming, funny how time flies when you're rhyming
LaFace Records, I think they got that perfect timing
To be doper than Saddam, believe the Nation of Islam
Fuck the police and the dogs, sniffing that dope up out your car
I think they overstep they boundaries
Huh, OJ, not guilty, that's how they found he

[Cee-Lo:]
Mm, yeah, mm, mm
Mm, yeah, mm, mm
Mm, yeah, mm, mm
Mm, yeah, mm, mm

[André 3000:]
I felt the pressure like sun shining, while raining
At the same time, I kept on rhyming, not complaining
Storm braining cats and dogs, my catalog be the size of golf balls
Throw up your Daisy Dukes I'm Hazzard-ous to all you Boss Hoggs
And Rosco P. Col' people, who caboose my locomotive
But enough of that, everyone can rap but let's say gift, suppose if
I use my gift of gab to boast and brag in every rhyme I
Compose, won't y'all get sick of that, 'cause I know I do when I hear those
Flows that ain't hip-hop, you find that shit in the gift shop
But to each his own, my speech is born
Keep that shit up outta my zone
Long as you happy, then I'm happy
Even if you just hate my fucking guts, go 'head and dap me
'Cause I'm gon' dap you anyway
And then go home and pray for your ass later
'Cause we might need you in this war, I'm wailing on you traitors
Like that