Benz Or Beamer Lyrics - Outkast

{"It all started at an accident scene on Bankhead and Ash Street. 

It's not clear if the suspect caused it; it is clear he wielded 

a hammer and told ... to get out of his car."} 

Verse One: Big Boi, Andre 

Yeah, yeah check it 

From alligator belts to patty melts I be that smoothest nigga 

So hwo do you figga that Atlant don't be pullin dem triggas 

The Southernplayalistic pimp is up in this bitch 

Man, my folkers up on that track, complimentin that wickedness 

See one is for the money two is for my niggaz who jack 

Niggaz ain't takin that shit no mo' they got big Benz and Cadillac 

My gat is in my lap, so whatchu wanna be startin now? 

I'm pissin up on Jeffrey's Dahmer grave that cracker was foul 

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Too close for comfort, too close to home 

Too close to be playin yo ass so hey why don't you get yo' own 

As long, as I got this legally 

People see that we can be on top of things without causin 

another nigga sorrow, I know it seems it ain't enough to go around 

But keep on holdin on like Goodie Mob cause it's a better day tomorrow 

That's all I can say, can't tell the future 

Tomorrow's another day but today, they just might shoot you 

For your ride, fuck your pride, hah better be out your seat 

Quick and snappy with a happy face before you bleed 

Ask me, if that material shit is worth yo' life 

I don't know about yours but if so you smokin pipes right 

Verse Two: Andre, Big Boi 

Photos 

Deep in the dungeon for these many months 

Amongst the Dungeon Dragon as we pass around dem blunts 

Had to cut it out like Cheers, but for years I used to burn em 

Gettin deep in my thoughts just to get shit off my sternum 

Chest/chess, I never played but made many a moves 

I still blame it on session cause I can't remember the due 

I guess, I feel that gettin a Benz is out of the question 

The world is yellin Hootie Hoo but in my pockets nuthin but 

gum and lint, to sum the shit, of I'm broke 

Nothin but hope, so Big Boi, tell em what you toke 

I'm travellin up to Jersey with four keys off in my trunk 

And thinkin of startin the ways to get that motherfucker krunk 

See yes I be that nigga that with that sess off in my chest 

Smokin and tokin them token blacks, that wanted to test 

See strong niggaz survive and the weak niggaz they die 

I never fuck no white bitch, I stop eatin that pig sty 

Be activatin that Lo-Jack cause the Fleetwood has been stolen 

Campalton Road is open, the B-I-G has spoken 

Cause it's like this 

Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre 

I got these thoughts, similar to the ones that call in the wild 

Up in the Benz is where I be doin about a hundred miles 

The world is FUCKED UP how these niggaz be drivin drunk 

Vehicular homicide with their bodies off in your trunk 

To me the cards is not belong I use that strong arm robbery 

Robbin spree, look at me, W-M-B 

Backwards, takin you to the cha cha with these verses 

Comin around the projects make you sleep off in dem hearses 

I got a word of wisdom, for those who must be zest 

You'll be needin a physical therapist, cause you can't fuck with this 

While you sat down by the seashore thinkin about some seashells 

I was around the corner from Clemson Hills thinkin about the V-12 

But maybe not for long because I just done seen the light 

I'm packin my screwdriver so see I'm gon' be alright 

Just moving the steering wheel side to side like a slalom 

Now I ain't got no problem I'm just breakin the steerin column 

I spot him, in the middle of the MARTA parkin lot 

I'm hearin a voice in the back of my head yellin "Andre stop!" 

But do I stop, naw I figure it's a come up 

But now I'm goin down cause the folks wanna run up 

DAMN! 

{"These days, the best way to deal with a car jacker 

is to simply give them what they want."}