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    Outkast / Lyrics

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    "Gasoline Dreams" Lyrics

    Outkast feat. Goodie Mob

    don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?
    Well burn muthafucka burn American dreams
    Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie?
    We'll snap for yo' slice of life i'm tellin you why
    I hear that MOther Nature's now on birth control
    the coldest pimp be lookin for somebody to hold
    the highway up to Heaven got a crook on the too
    Youth full of fire aint got nowhere to go, nowhere to go

    All of my heroes did dope, every nigga 'round me
    Playin married or payin child support. I can't cope

    Never made no sense to me one day i hope it will
    and that's that, sport, sport
    pray i live to see the day when Seven's happily married
    with kids woe, woe
    the world is movin' fast and i'm losin my balance
    no time dig low. low.
    to a place where ain't nowhere to go but up
    ya wit me say shiiittt, sho. sho.
    Now let me ask y'all this

    It's shittly little ricky stratton got a million bucks
    my cousin ricky walker got ten yeaers doin fed time
    on a first offense drunk bust, fuck the Holice
    that's if you racist or ya crooked
    aresst me for this dope. I didn't wieght it up or cook it
    you gotta charge the world cause over a million people took it
    look at me. you outta your jurisdiction now you lookin stupid

    officer, get off me sir, don't make me call L.A. he'll have you walkin sir
    a couple of months ago, they gave OutKast the key to the city
    but i sill gotta pay my taxes and they give us no pity
    about the youngsters amongst us you think they respect the law
    they think they monsters, they love us, realit rappin'
    and giving the youth the truth from this booth
    and when we on stage we scream don't everybody everbody.

    Officer of the most high, you touch me you touch the apple of this eye
    if they kick us out where will we go
    not to africa caue not one of them acknowledge us as the kin folk
    still eating prok, abomination, descration of beating flesh
    penalty for violation is death
    woe, woe to the man that strive with his maker on judgment day
    hip, hip, horray! Mr. Reaper, Babylon the Great
    the mother of heartless is falling, prophecy must be fullfilled
    the liquor fire is calling
    This song was last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Andre Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Willie Edward Knighton, David A. Sheats.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Song Details

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