Lyrics Tomb of the Boom - OutKast, Konkrete, Big Gipp

Tomb of the Boom

Speakerboxxx
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 motherfucking rest
But you know
It’s Dungeon Family all day long baby
We finna break it off with some fresh new shit
This rap game lovely
Konkrete play a part cause the Feds want to bug me
Athletes want to be rappers, shawty, trust me
Bending corners in the Benz, ridin like a bucket, nigga fuck it
I know some hoes slutty
I auctioned 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 a baby
You don’t grind, you be lying
Should be castrated, Lorena Bobitt maybe?
Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom
Serving up emotion once you deep inside the tomb
From 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, I’m 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 niggas, won’t you pump this out your Speakerboxxx
Fuck the cops, we makin noise and we won’t stop
Bump, bump, there goes the boom and it’s gon' drop
Old school, big shoes, nigga, no socks
We keep tools, see fools, bullets will flock
They call me Mr. Ravioli, Mr. Streudel
Mr. Poke Em with the Noodle, Mr. Cockerspaniel in your Poodle
After school tutor, Roto Rooter, addicted to follies
Like brown collies, stay soft fro crows
Swimming in the fallopian of an Ethiopian
Talking a different language, RBI fly wide
Talk to me now, 84 hard, 84 soft wit me now
Beautiful ladies, they want to walk wit me now, talk wit me now
Pussy pop for me now, sell cock for me now
Fight a bitch, hit her in the eye for me now
See you when I see you, now I’m out wit me now
Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom
Serving up emotion once you deep inside the tomb
From 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, 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 streets mayne
I just tell it how I see it nigga, facts is facts
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, Big Boi, beatin through your Speakerboxxx, yeah!
Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom
Serving up emotion once you deep inside the tomb
From 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 a lot
Meanwhile, crankin' the volume knob up on my Speakerboxxx
So hear ye, «Get the fuck on the ground!»
Is just a phrase you might hear strolling through the A-Town
They don’t believe that we’ll stab them in the abdomen
From College Park, Georgia to College Park, Maryland
So put your fist up boy, you wanna romp
You can Bankhead Bounce or get Eastside Stomped
Thinking way back before I got mine
Putting bullet holes through the neighborhood stop signs
Still wild is my adrenaline, yes, ladies and gentleman
Denenen, A hundred thou, bitch!
Diamonds shimmerin
Catch me with a sack of dro, reaching for The Strap Below
Or with some nasty hoes, eating pistachios
Y’all driving Subarus, stuck in your cubicles
I’m stuck in the air with weed crumbs under my cuticles
Tomb after tomb, boom, boom after boom
Serving up emotion once you deep inside the tomb
From 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, 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 blessing me
Excelling in harmonious melody, boy we got the recipe
Like Ragu, it’s in there, giving you some of the best of me
Playa pimp gangsta poet, we gon spit it, we gon show it to yo 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, we okay»
OutKast, Cell Therapy to cell division
We done split it down the middle so you can see both the visions
Been spittin it damn near 10 years, why the fuck would we be quittin?
Fuck nigga!