Outkast - Gasoline dreams feat khujo goodie from goodie mob lyrics, song lyrics, line by line lyrics, lyric download
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Outkast
Track : Gasoline dreams feat khujo goodie from goodie mob

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Hook

don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?

Well burn muthaf**ka 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

Hook

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, f**k 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.

Hook

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

Hook

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