[Verse 1: André 3000]
Hello lord, it's me again
I just wanna make love to the whole globe
And all her girlfriends
Now don't that make ya mind move
Like smoke patterns, me on my way to Saturn wit' a bomb
Nam-viet, Viet or Saudi Shawty
I figure before the first gun blast, they know who gon' win
Now won't that make us all fools, like class clowns
Praying Private Ryan comes 'round
Sound travels at one-thousand-one-thirty feet per second
Niggas in the street they want it, hurry
When niggas stop biting that's when 3000 starts to worry
A little knowledge from the college of wizard Ray Murray
Answer quick: do you know what desire is? (Huh?)
Apparently not, that's why you get what you got
Now answer this: do you know what fire is? (Yeah!)
The body of hot, the motivator of pots
Snot, spit, shit are characteristics of release
Ask your niece or nephew, you think we left you
What the future holds in its sweaty palms
Think I'm finna vom'?
You move it like you mean it, she'll come
Prom night might excite a down right fight like
White blood cells to the common cold rebel
Night gets jealous of day, play is no longer
The feelin' gets stronger than ammonia sticks inhale
Hello lord, it's me again
I just wanna make love to the whole globe
And all her girlfriends
Now don't that make ya mind move
Like smoke patterns, me on my way to Saturn wit' a bomb
Nam-viet, Viet or Saudi Shawty
I figure before the first gun blast, they know who gon' win
Now won't that make us all fools, like class clowns
Praying Private Ryan comes 'round
Sound travels at one-thousand-one-thirty feet per second
Niggas in the street they want it, hurry
When niggas stop biting that's when 3000 starts to worry
A little knowledge from the college of wizard Ray Murray
Answer quick: do you know what desire is? (Huh?)
Apparently not, that's why you get what you got
Now answer this: do you know what fire is? (Yeah!)
The body of hot, the motivator of pots
Snot, spit, shit are characteristics of release
Ask your niece or nephew, you think we left you
What the future holds in its sweaty palms
Think I'm finna vom'?
You move it like you mean it, she'll come
Prom night might excite a down right fight like
White blood cells to the common cold rebel
Night gets jealous of day, play is no longer
The feelin' gets stronger than ammonia sticks inhale
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