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Home Blogs The Speaker Box

We’re Bringing Lyrics Back: Outkast – Big Boi & Andre 3000

  • H. Sylver By H. Sylver
  • /
  • October 20, 2011
  • 2:14 pm
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Hello UrbanERs,

OUTKAST, YESS!!! This was a hip-hop quotable that I have always wanted to do for a long time. But each time it came down to it, I always find myself fighting with which quotable to do. Every single song Outkast jumps on, whether separate or together, they send your nodding head and tapping feet through an experiment of wordplay, imagery, irony, and metaphoric stimuli that only legends of Hip-Hop can. Outkast is THAT duo. Quite possibly the best lyrical duo in Hip-Hop music, no disrespect to Eric B. and Rakim, Dead Prez, The Clipse, Smif-N-Wesson, Mobb Deep, Field Mob, or UGK. (Need a Big Tymers Reunion, if Mannie or Stunna are listening!!). Outkast’s southern sound has always been original and funkadelic. From their humble beginning with the Dungeon Family, which also included fellow artist, Cee-Lo Green, Sleepy Brown and poet Big Rube, Outkast has set the bar in the south that many up and coming artist/groups have still not reached yet.

I figured that I would do this edition of “We’re Bringing Lyrics Back” in three parts. Each of them separately, and bring em back together for one classic hit. Here we go!!

First off, Big Boi – “Daddy Fat Sax” off of his recent and first solo album “Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Boi:
It is I, the B-I-G, the B-O-I
Me oh my, ears to the street and eyes to the sky
Kept my sights on the prize, wide open, door wide
Like the thighs of a hooker spread, told the girl bye
I got bigger fish to fry, niggaz wish I would retire
Cause of the pressure I apply every time I bust a rhyme
None of the rest of ya are tryin, watch me stimulate the minds of the masses
While you niggaz kickin it like jackasses
And who you votin for, Republican or Democratic?
Don’t say it doesn’t matter cause that’s how they stole the last one
Assassin’s bullet might be waitin for Obama
Do you think they’ll have a brother before Billy’s baby mama?
C’mon!

Chorus: scratches by DJ Cutmaster Swiff
“Look at the way you look at me” – “Da-Daddy Fat Sax”
“In my Cadillac, six woofers and fo’ amps”
“Look at the way you look at me” – “Da-Daddy Fat Sax”
“In my Cadillac, six woofers and fo’ amps”
“Look at the way you look at me” – “Daddy Fat-Fat Sax”
“In my Cadillac, six woofers and fo’ amps”
“Look at the way you look at me” – “Da-Da-Daddy Fat Sax”
“In my Cadillac, six woofers and fo’ amps”

Big Boi: (Favorite Verse)
My daddy told me it was mine for the takin
A true gift from God, the stars aligned when they made me
Him and Rena’s baby, their first born son
I’m Antwan Andre Patton, the only one
Bloodline of a champion with heart of the lion
I’m defyin all the laws like a caterpillar flyin
Way before my time and reside in the Dirty Dirty
Where they still hangin nooses like we in the early ’30s
Goddamn, you know who I am? {“Da-Daddy Fat Sax”}
Royal fam of Atlanta, Dungeon bitch you understand? (boy!)
This ain’t what you want, let’s be clear from the bungie
I write knockout songs, you spit punchlines for money

Chorus

Big Boi:
With my ears to the streets and my eyes to the sky
I’m on another planet my nigga and you just fly
(Why?) Cause I’m {“Da-Da-Daddy Fat Sax”}
Take that motherfucker, take that!
With my ears to the streets and my eyes to the sky
I’m on another planet my nigga and you just fly
(Why? Cause he’s Daddy Fat Sax)
Ridin off in the Cadillac like that nigga

Big Boi – Daddy Fat Sax Live

 

Next up, Andre 3000. Now I’m sure every one has heard his recent features on Chris Brown’s “Dueces” and Beyonce’s “Party”. But I have to say, his most memorable recent feature would have to be Lloyd’s “Dedication to my Ex”. Here We Go!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Andre 3000:

Damn, darlin, do change ya oil?
I’m your number fan belt they are not important
I don’t use a cordless, microphone avoid them
They don’t feel real to me
Meaning real woman
Others peeled on me,
You the primer on the lime green box When I couldn’t afford a Ford
Clean socks scootin’ across the floor in your grandmama house
Hand on your mouth
You yap too much about the penny, mechanic so uncanny
X-men, x-men, your ex boyfirend should thank me that I took you off his hands
No I can’t bring another beach to the sand
And know I am well aware that you can bring a man to his knees
and get what you need without saying please
But can you bring a man to his feet when defeat is on repeat
And they put this man’s Grammy’s on the street?(classic, Ladies pay attention!)
What? Why so quiet?
Hate that all of our memories happened in a Hyatt
You were perfect before you went on a diet
You was way thicker, you think I don’t remember

The magazine got to your head
Now somebody you don’t even know got you in bed
Bet Your Buddy Dont Even Know You Don’t Like Red
Or Was It Fuchsia, F-ck It, Our Future Is Dead.

Lloyd- Dedication to my ex Clean Radio

I just had to do this classic one, Outkast “Jazzy Bell” off of their second album “ATLiens”…………

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Jazzy Belle”

Verse One: Andre 3000

Yeah
Oh yes I love her like Egyptian, want a description, my royal highness
So many plusses when I bust that there can’t be no minus
Went from yellin crickets and crows, bitches and hoes to queen thangs
Over the years I been up on my toes and yes I seen thangs
like Kilroy, chill boi because them folks might think you soft
talkin like that, man fuck them niggaz I’m goin off
and comin right back, like boomerangs when you throw em
With these old ghetto poems, Bankhead is better for em
When they can let they throw em, down from hitchikin and bitin niggaz
until the temple they call the body, now everybody got it
Had it, talked about it amongst they friends
Comin around my crew lookin Jazzy, wanna pretend
like you Ms. Goodie, Four-Shoes, even Bo knew, that you got poked
like accupuncture patients while our nation is a boat
Straight sinkin, I hate thinkin that these the future mommas
of our chillun, they fuckin a different nigga every time
they get the feelin to, I’m willin to go the extra kilo-meter
just to see my senorita get her pillow
on the side of my bed where no good ever stay
House and doctor was the games we used to play
but now it’s real Jazzy Belle…

Verse Two: Big Boi

See what if you was a playa real playa not no slouch
Havin the very best of life lots of steak and Perignon
Smokin an ounce of weed yeah every single day was personal FreakNik
Freakin these hoes in Polo clothes life as you conceived it
but your conception, deception, lookin into your watch I see
you weapon and it’s depressin, they’re diggin up in your thighs
leavin deposits keep your closets open not your boots and drawers
Hopin to get you sprung like bell-bottoms, steadily callin me Antwan
cause you thinkin that you my lady bitch don’t play me cause you’re chanky
I wanted to hit that ass but me and the Goodie we got danky
So thank thee, you runnin that Southerplayalistic game
You was the only one to blame, a nigga don’t even know yo’ name
it’s a shame, you crackin em up and fuckin a nigga like Tupac up
I’m leavin these foes to be the flowers and wake don’t get me see
I gotta be feedin my daughter, teach her to be that Natural Woman
Cause you’ll be Waiting to Exhale while you other hoes be
Dumb and Dumber, yeah you know what I’m sayin?

Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi

One two, yessss, ummkay, check this out right here now
See me ain’t no good, in the black on black ‘Llac no star
Windows are tinted so that no one knows who us are
Talk bad about her nigga guaranteed to snap like bra
Strap stickin together like grandma and grandpa-pa
In this dog eat dog world, kitty cats be scratchin on my
furry coat to curl, up with me and my bowl of kibbles and bits
I want to earl, cause most of the girls that we was likin
in high school, now they dykein *laughin*

Havin no mercy for the disrespect-ful ones, some
be hangin around the crew lookin for funds, dumb
deaf and fine, they be, askin me all about mine
How she doin how she be, I know she’s sippin that wine
behind my back they skwak like vultures
Off and On like Trendz of Cultures baby
hey he, fakin it like these sculptured, nails
But they can go to hell and lay with Lucifer
Cause they burnin anyway, Big Boi user and abuser

Outkast – Jazzy Belle

Szodiac, signing off!!!

 

Tags: Andre 3000AtlantaATLiensbabyBeyonceBig Boibig tymersBirdmanCee-Lo GreenDaddy Fat Saxdead prezDedication to my exDungeon Familyeric b. and rakimFeaturedField MobGeorgiaGoodie MobJazzy BellJazzy bellelegendsLloydlyricsMannie FreshMobb DeepOrganized NoiseOutkastsir lucious left foot: the son of chico dustySleepy Brownsmif-n-wessonsouthsouthernSpeakerboxxxStankoniaswagthe clipseThe love BelowUGKwordplay
H. Sylver

H. Sylver

Born and raised on the island streets of New Providence, Bahamas; H. Sylver grew up in a Haitian household that nurtured his love for music and theatrical performances, spoken word poetry, and writing. This passion gained him a spot on Island/Def Jam's Street Team, where he became an ambassador for hip hop, promoting artists like Jay-Z, Kanye West, Jeezy, Nas, Rick Ross, and many more. He has great insight and analysis of the current music scene, providing written reports on trending news, and original think pieces. He currently resides in Fort Lauderdale, FL, and is currently writing his first novel, Kingdom's Bones.

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