Goodie Mob — Sole Sunday

[Verse 1: Big Gipp] Yeah, yeah, yo Gipp keep it slow poke Hang out the side with no rope Sit in the tub, flick the remote and soak Pull up, jump out, and then I strut for her And if anybody got problems, I'ma cut for her In this atmosphere now you can disappear, smoke thick shells Bail like tailbacks looking for holes Drag my ass down the ave like a cab Scar that ass, leave your shirt open like an Arab Making money off these breakdown slabs We got this zone, get your own Better move on before your folk get split, you won't forget The DF put it down, now get down or sit down [Hook: André 3000] Sunday mornin', makes me feel So godly, pardon me, if I shake your soul I got it, I got it shorty, it's our ball [Verse 2: Khujo] I tackle my problems, never run from my foes Stiff-arm facemask, hit the juke button, then leave a sucka froze Like he just tried to stuff a whole ki up in his nose On all fo's You hit 'em high, I hit 'em low, for this dough Your heart gon' bust out here, 'cause we comin' full speed We dig, intend you lift you up off of your feet At the lift, of the glass, sippin' victory Clean cut but I stay dirty Uhh, you play fair, I cheat I spike this pig in yo' face like you never stopped eatin' pork Or beast, and diseases end careers Tenacious on his grill, uh, All-Pro Hall of Famer With no fears, blood sweat and tears [Hook: André 3000] Sunday mornin', makes me feel So godly, pardon me, if I shake your soul [Verse 3: André 3000] The rich boy got it bad 'cause he is rich The poor boy got it bad 'cause he is poor The bad boy got it bad 'cause he want growth The good girl got it good 'cause she got game And runs it on undeveloped fellas considered lame Same like mechanics do it, baby who need her Buick Repaired, don't have no knowledge of what a brake shoe is Make woo it, turn to nickle, squirm and tickle We wiggle, now your emotions like a dill pickle In autumn, fall, into the bottom of black holes Make a left on nothingness 'cause that's where I'm at Cold as summer, I got yo' number, you got my number Let's add 'em, see what we come with maybe we can slumber Like uh, beggars and bums and uh, retarded ones, uh Dolphins and whales, uh, the smartest ones, so Nothing you can do can be new up under the sun Depending what sun you live under, you can be the one on [Hook: André 3000] Sunday mornin', makes me feel So godly, pardon me, if I shake your soul [Verse 4: Big Boi] Ain't no Sunday School this mornin They say somebody blowed up the church What's even worse than that I heard Pastor Jenkins he got hurt by the Perpetrators, demonstrators of violence and hatred It's fin' to be 2001, the rojo-necks are racist Fascists acting savage on the Sabbath must be demons Errand boys for Satan defeated when I repeat it Rebuke thee, rebuke thee, the look in they eye was spooky But now I find myself in the park sittin' in my hooptie Like a movie, I was daydreamin' and everything seemed real But now I'm at Mozley Park and we got some chicken on the grill Get a beer, nigga chill, roll a joint, pop a pill Cop a feel, or some cut, as we do it like this here on [Bridge] On any given Sunday, all, Atlanta will be born A tradition will be broken Victory is yours, on any given Sunday [Hook: André 3000] Sunday mornin', makes me feel So godly, pardon me, if I shake your soul