[Intro: Big Boi & André 3000]
Something's gotta give!
Yeah, you know what I'm sayin? Uhh
Herndon Homes, unh, Martel Homes, Carver Homes, Techwood
Martin Luther King, Bankhead

[Verse 1: Big Boi]
Undercover, over the hills and through the woods I go
Like green lights, a Southern n***a that's comin' for your throat
But not no guillotine – see, we be them Southern playas
Remember the football socks, aerobic Reeboks and Decaturs?
Now you up to par and ready for your lesson
I got an ounce of dank and a couple of drinks, so let's crank up a session
Like Tri-Cities High School, was pulling 'em in a broke down Rabbit
I spit a couple of words, and laying 'em down was just a habit
Just like Smokey, choking off da pee-wee that we rolled up
Talking about the clique will get you nathaniel but swolled up
"Hootie Hoo," slapped you boys across the cheek with Isotoners
And went to tell yo' momma and yo' pop that you was a goner
Tell 'em Big Boi did it; "I swear that n***a be rhyming
Every lyric that he spit be turning charcoals into Diamonds and Pearls"
Girl, when you giving up them drawers? 'Cause
I got a couple of n***as down the hall
That want to hit it too, I'm not the type to be acting selfish
Set it out and let it out, and I'll be right back, just like Elvis
'Cause the postman rings twice... (Yeah)
Hey Mr. Postman... (It's like that)
Yeah
[Hook: Witchdoctor]
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines

[Verse 2: André 3000]
Everybody wanna get signed, but (I'm here to tell you)
Record companies act like pimps
Getting paid off what we made, when we the ones that's fly like blimps
But ain't no Goodyear, I tell it like it is, so I'm like, "look here"
Just willing to get what I deserve, my kids do have a mother
And a little house, with a dog in the backyard going "woof-woof"
Who knows what I must face when I leave this recording booth?
Poof, back in the real world where birds fly
From Miami, by way of Cuba, to whoever wants to get that high
There's clouds of clowns, seas of G's
Pro-jects, packed with playas meditating on their knees
Just to make them ends meet, like ground beef, you won't believe
The shit that n***as attempt 'cause they got other mouths to feed
Besides they own
[Hook: Witchdoctor]
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines

[Verse 3: Big Boi]
Yeah, uh
"It's some hoes in this house," damn right
I'm thinking about the way you skull me
Girls be–sucking me dry like deserts, Mojave, Gobi,
Hotties and honeydips
Liking the way you do me, screw me and make my money flip
Shaking that ass for daddy, putting this gas off in my Cadi-llac
Back, don't ever snap, packing the gats and pimping whores
Hors d'oeuvres, swerve, hit the curb, because I'm reckless (Uh)
Back in the days when I was broke, I'd snatch your fucking necklace
You ol' pussy-ass n***a... (Yeah) yeah