Verse One: Big Boi, 

Andre 



From the bottom of my lungs a nigga be blowin, spittin his game 

Comin up on ya from the South, the A-T-Liens aint changed 

Cooler than most players claim to be 

A nigga that's from the A-Town see 

The home of the Bankhead Bounce, Campbellton Road and other city 

streets 

Enough of the verality, fallacy, butter we speak not fiction 

Speakin of pullin yo' girl lookin at Jheri curls you bitches 

Everytime I ryhme for y'all, I'm lookin to prove a point 

kickin a freestyle every now and then 

but mostly off the joint 

See I smoke good cuz see it go good wit them flows, why 

the nigga the B-I-G like Tony Rich nobody knows why 

but me and my folks, cuz yall niggas jokes like the joker 

I'm sick of these wack ass rappers like I'm tired of hoes in 

chokers 



Who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 

This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 

But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs 

askin where we come from...South Post Lodge 



Chorus: 



Its Just Two Dope Boyz In A Cadillac (2X) 



Verse Two: Andre, Big Boi 



This ol sucka MC stepped up to me 

Challenged Andre to a battle and I stood there patiently 

As he spit and stumbled over cliches, so called freestylin 

Whole purpose just to make me feel low, I guess you whylin 

I say look boi, I ain't for that fuck shit; so fuck this 

Let me explain on this child style so you don't miss 

I grew up to myself not round no park bench 

just a nigga bustin flows off in apartments 



Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 

This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 

But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs 

askin where we come from...South Post slums 



Chorus 



Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre 



It goes chromes to the Fleetwoods, Coups to the Villes 

Hittin Girbauds and off these flows we havin the playa chill 

In this atmosphere this ain't no practice here we cuttin the fool 

now 

I'm doin ya at the house and throwin you out because I'm through 

now 

Don't you love the way we clamin Bankhead, stankhead 

Lookin around the SWATS for the herb that's never tainted 

Fainted when you heard the bourbon servin on the block 

And all you bitin indivuals need to check yourselfs and stop 



Yeah tight like nuts and bolts, sluts and hoes that get evicted 

I'm dealin wit Queens in my castle aint worth to risk it 

Now tricks be lookin at me like I'm they way up out the pro-jects 

Can't put you on my payroll, and no I ain't got no Rolex 

or no diamond at the exit with a sign sayin ""We'll rap for 

food"" 

My face is bawled up cuz I ain't in a happy mood 

While my partner got the squeegee and the windex 

Cuz somewhere in my life I done went wrong jus like a syntax 

Error, bring the terror to your dome like P.E. 

Prone to finish this out cuz this be a free-style 



Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 

this side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 

but in the middle we stay calm 

we just drop......