Lyrics

[Intro: Big Rube] Conceive true deception, multiplied a million-fold Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense that we get em confused The resident evil specialize in misconstruing We wanna be at a presidential level—what are we doing? Fooling ourselves, clowning ourselves, playing ourselves But not being ourselves We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat Nimrod by the time we 40 'cause we can't get off meat While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season Look at the picture that's painted Tainted is the mind that's blinded to the point where Sodomites get all the rights We fall for fights with fisticuffs Get pissed enough to miss the bus It disgusts me to see my folks run up on I say stand up on the section of time marked Revelations And recognize this mind-numbing reality of horror known as mankind Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen A righteous number of righteous men Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end The Devil say "The end is the beginning" They teach that we were the product of incest Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics Stand with us and don't look back upon–this faceless mindstate Otherwise, Babylon [Pre-Chorus: Debra Killings] Like memories of yesterday... [Scratch break: Big Boi sample, (André 3000)] "'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..." "'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..." "'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..." (Like that) "'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..." [Verse 1: André 3000] I bet you never heard of a playa with no game Told the truth to get what I want, but shot it with no shame Take this music dead serious, while others entertain I see they're making their paper, so I guess I can't complain Or can I? I feel they disrespecting the whole thang Them hoax, like selling dope to Black folks And I choke when the food they serving ain't tasting right My stomach can't digest it, even when I bless it I'm confessing, one more lesson, from the South, we in the house tonight Now "hootie who" wants to oppose? Suppose We roll through Headland and Delowe Where me and my niggas would pass the flow And got down for ours like hind catchers My mind catches flashbacks to the black past While mind-closed niggas laugh at The Southern slang, finger waves, and Mojo chicken wangs I grew up on Booty Shake, we did not know no better thang So go 'head and diss it, while real hop-hippers listen Started by Afrika Bambaataa, so you and your partner Gather your thoughts ("'96 gonna be that year...") [Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)] Something's gotta change Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain Been bearing this burden for too many of my days ("'96 gonna be that year...") Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way Like memories of yesterday [Verse 2: Big Boi] Uhh, born Antwan Patton, but my partners they call me Big Boi It's the nigga, the B-I-G, be speaking the truth, not talking that shit, boi I'm thinking of checking my traps and busting my raps And throwing them craps 7-Eleven is no "convenience," you pumping your gas, they watching your back For the robbing crew, thinking'a robbing you – you must be cautious See, staying up on your game, and pimping these crows, you must be "flawless" Like 'Mortal Kombat', but fuckin' these wombats got you dizzy My nigga, you moreover wanna be playin', but runnin' up on me like you miss me You catching the wrong vibe, packin' your shit, and rolling your eyes back Flexin' up on the corner, tossin' your dice, and rollin' your Cadillac But, man, it seems I'm reaching out and touching the wrong nigga Don't expect it to be pimping, and get your index off the trigger As we bust – us, we leavin 'em in the dust So keep that 'caine up out of your nose, I said my peace and then I hush As the calendar keeps flippin', niggas dippin'... ("'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah...") [Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)] Something's gotta change Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain Been bearing this burden for too many of my days Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way ("'96 gonna be that year...") Like memories of yesterday [Verse 3: André 3000] Our dearly beloved, we are gathered Like soap is to lather, we come clean Some issues need to be addressed, like envelopes, I mean Oh, like Liberty Bells, yes, them bullets keep on ringing On fire, like the Georgia Mass Choir, we keep on sanging Bringing our folks closer together, 'cause they severed us from the "get-green– Light," and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen Sike, because no one is free when others are oppressed So, we hit the stage, and then we fly back to our nest Growing old [Verse 4: Big Boi] Like some eagles, people don't understand Just like their parents don't be caring I'm speakin' about you, player, with that phony stuff you sharing In your raps – Mercedes Benz and all your riches Figure you got it, but "get it, get it"? But you ain't pimping no bitches 'Cause you flaw–ing; fall in like leaves into driveways Isn't it lovely, smoking good and sloppy head on highways? Fridays are tight, but Saturday just makes it old Winter nights are hot, warm enough to feed your soul Growing old... yeah... [Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)] Something's gotta change Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain Been bearing this burden for too many of my days Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way Like memories of yesterday ("'96 gonna be that year...") Something's gotta change Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain ("'96 gonna be that year...") Been bearing this burden for too many of my days ("'96 gonna be that year...") Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way Like memories of yesterday... yesterday... yesterday... [Outro: André 3000] ...See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old