Artist: OutKast
|
Album: Speakerboxxx/The Love Below
|
Song: A Life in the Day of Benjamin Andre (Incomplete)
|
Typed by: [email protected]
|
|
I met you in a club in Atlanta Georgia
|
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
|
You looked at me like yeah nigga right
|
But you gave me you number anyway you were on the talcum
|
Powder, how's about them oranges
|
Moved away from home to school with big plans
|
By day, studied the history of music
|
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
|
To get your pants was a mission impossible
|
We were both the same age but I
|
Suppose wasn't on the same page but in
|
The same book of life so I'd paged you when
|
I felt you that were getting off of work
|
Or either when you're on your way to school
|
We starting hanging like Ernie and Bert
|
And in my idle head I'm thinking cool
|
Just when I think I'm going down your shirt
|
You're hiking up your skirt now
|
The events that followed had me volley if your hometown would be
|
Heaven or hell
|
The angelic nastiness you possessed made you by far the best
|
Therefore hard to tell
|
You'd dropped me off by the dungeon
|
Never came in, but I knew that you were wondering
|
Now are these niggaz in this house up to something
|
Selling crack sack by sacks so they could function?
|
Well, yes and no
|
Yes we were selling it
|
But no it wasn't blow
|
Cook it in the basement then move it at a show
|
Then grab the microphone and everybody yelled ˇ°hoˇ±
|
Meanwhile the video starts playing
|
BET college radio and a van
|
Packed full of niggaz with a blunt in their hand
|
And one in their ear
|
You know what I'm saying
|
But, I kept your number in my old phone
|
Got a new chip flip with the roam roam
|
So it took me a minute to retrieve seven digits
|
But I promised I would call you when I got home
|
But, when I got home I never did
|
By the time I did, heard that you had a kid
|
By some nigga in Decatur
|
Who replied see you later when he got the good news, that's life shit
|
Now, I'm nineteen with a Cadillac
|
My nigga had a Lex with the gold pack
|
Got a plaque but I'm living with my pop pop
|
So I got glock and a low jack
|
You kinda fast for that fella in class who used to draw
|
And never said much ˇ®cause half of what he saw
|
Was so far from that place you wanna be
|
That words only fucked it up more follow me
|
Are you starting to gather what I'm getting at?
|
Now if I'm losing you tell me then I'll double back
|
But keep in mind, at the time ˇ°keep it realˇ± was the phrase
|
Silly once said now, but those were the days
|
When spring break
|
And Daytona
|
And Freakniks
|
Made you wanna
|
Drop out of college and never go back
|
Move to the south but that ain't a Kodak
|
Moment, on went myself and big boi
|
Well you knew him as Twan
|
That's right you were around before this shit begun
|
When Twan had a daughter and
|
Sort of was made to mature before the first tour
|
We hit the road like jack
|
Laughed and cried and drived it back with some Yak
|
Girls used to say, y'all talk funny, y'all from the islands?
|
And I'd Laughed and they just keep smiling
|
No, I'm from Atlanta baby
|
He from Savannah, maybe
|
We should hook up and get tore up and then lay down hey we
|
Got to go because the bus is pulling out in 30 minutes
|
She's playing tennis disturbing the tenants
|
15-love
|
Fit like glove
|
Description is like
|
15 doves
|
In a Jacuzzi catching the Holy Ghost
|
Making one woozy in the head and comatose, agree?
|
Enough about me
|
How's about you?
|
How's the lil' kid?
|
She was about 2 the last time we spoke
|
I hadn't smoked or took a shot of drink
|
Cause I'd start the 2nd album off on another note
|
Now, that note threw some niggaz in the hood off
|
But see I'd balled out, and before I fall out
|
I'd Slow my Lac down to a nice speed
|
The brain is that fried egg I might need
|
New direction was apparent
|
I was a child looking at the floor staring
|
So changing my style was like release for the primitive beast
|
Yes I was on the rise, yeast was the street
|
To make bread-Never primary concern
|
Just to hop on these beats and wait my turn
|
| I'd meet muslims, ganstas, bitches, rastas, and macoroni niggaz - imposters |
