Big Boi, Killer Mike, Bubba Sparxxx - Oh No lyrics

We're back this is MC extraordinaire
Reporting to you for W-A D-F
Generation one television
We here in a remote area
Somewhere way back up in the woods
With members of the elite Dungeon Family
Them boys in there workin' on
Some shit so fire i bullshit you not

Ey, welcome to Purple Ribbon
Prime-time official killer Mike, y'all
Killer kill from the ville
Go hard on the rhyme
Like a junkie on powder I go hard every line
I'm a ex-Dope Boi but I still rap low
And I sold more horse than a polo sto'
I'm destined to become a millionaire
Similar to Phil Collins I can
Feel it in the air
My car change colors like a million airs
Necklace, get reckless and touch my chain
I put it in the air and bust your brain
Any sucker out there tryna' take my cash
Better pray God with him when I catch his ass
Or he gon' lay there dyin' wit'
A bullet in his ass

We trendsetters off the chain rock wilders
Y'all
Sideline uppin' these haters and bitch riders

Pardon my French but if you give me an inch
I'm a take five kilometres and
Give it to the commoners
Some dirty white boys and
Some hoochie black girls
Nearly one million sold but I'm
Still in that world
That's why you won't see Bubba
Buck head bouncin' unless it's the cream and
I'm upstairs countin'
You know the type of bread
That don't involve accountants
Continuin' the legacy my four fathers founded
We won a lot of battles but
The war is still ragin'
She's turned a lot of tricks but
The whore is still agein'
What is? what God gave me for my birthday
You ain't D-F dawg, fuck what your shirt say
Talkin' bout he's undeserving
Of the blessin's when truthfully the tat was
Roomin' them suggestions
New? clean in the game they?
We ain't them boys that you
Can't say earned it

We trendsetters off the chain rock wilders
Y'all
Sideline uppin' these haters and bitch riders

Every now and then, me and my kin
We get to bussin'
Not in the high school football game
I'm talkin' bout rhyme thrustin'
I'm talkin' bout line crushin'
Somethin's empty bumpin'
On the low straight out the
Oven like some blueberry muffins
We got the stuffing like
Some? or somethin', macaroni, mackalicious
Mack a bitch or a woman
There is a difference
Not if the woman start bitchin'
Won't get in the kitchen
Male, chauvinistic, nah, ho, you missed it
I'm just kiddin', just playin'
I'm just sayin' we humpin' around
Like the ghost of Bobby Brown
And Stankonia lingerin' round
We have found proof of sound of our ground
When we've split in two parts
No one can block us now
Maybe top lock but we can't stop
Let the great white head be severed
We weathered the storm, with feathers
Something we treasure
(Well I never) and you never will
Suckered up
The Dungeon Family is here to stay and
We don't give a flying fuck

We trendsetters off the chain rock wilders
Y'all
Sideline uppin' these haters and bitch riders