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Rating: What the fuck do you niggaz know about the dirty South?
I know something, to be honest. Mama said that those who mind their own business live to be a hundred, but the fear of reaching such a milestone pushed me to mind those of others. And in fact, as far as I know, I'm close to death. Or maybe not. Or maybe I am, huh. But maybe not. But maybe, maybe yes. Come on, I don’t think so. But I think yes. Meh, maybe not. But yes.
So once upon a time, there was the deep south. Everyone would say "how beautiful the women of the south are, they have that warm pussy." Have you ever tried the daddy’s girls from Brianza? NO I MEAN, DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING NICE IT IS TO FUCK A BRIANZA GIRL WITH HER NOSE IN THE AIR? EH ASSHOLE? DO YOU KNOW OR NOT?
And then I've always hated those Brianza bumps: half artists, half fags. No, come on, I don’t know what I’m saying. I never knew. Like when you’re in bed with one and you’ve just finished the impure act, what the fuck do you say to her? "Great job sis, give me five", "Oh my God what an incredible performance. You were like oh no stop and I was bam no fucker you’d get it all you wicked bitch take that take that take that" or "I liked you, just like your mom". That’s why people smoke a cigarette after sex: it avoids any form of dialogue.
The deep South: a beautiful area, an area of angry African American friends with everyone, close to death, close to fucking everything, even their own life. Maybe some try to save themselves, others just die. But the rule is always the same: you, from the dirty South, don’t really know a damn thing.
Like the Deep Web: in the end, you're a nerdy ugly teenager affected by some strange Oedipus complex and you even go on the dark side of the internet. You think it’s cool to go see certain things, then you find the forbidden video of your mom fucking your dog who licks your face as soon as you enter the house; with the same tongue with which he licks your mom’s pussy. And you jerk off, because you’re affected by some strange Oedipus complex. HELL NO, FUCKING HELL, THIS IS ALL GOING WRONG.
The deep South is not an area where you can go for a walk just like that: do you care about your life? Stay at home and listen to Articolo 31, damn high school kid whose only concern is to get a good grade in the history oral exam. You and your ideals: I FREAKING PEE ON YOUR IDEALS, DAMN!!! Then I was also a high school kid whose only concern was to get a good grade in the oral exam: good times. Before life came to ask me the bill. Damn bitch, I didn’t even fuck you and you ask me the bill. But it’s logical, she tried with me, but I turned her down: angry, she decided to become impossible. Poor dear, don’t you know that Little Horn doesn’t go screwing little girls? Little Horn screws the posh Brianza daughters from 18 years up, take the word of a Boy Scout. Got it, Life?
Goodie Mob, straight from the dirty and deep South. Bearers of music from the soul, spokespersons of an unbearable suffering, chroniclers of an impossible match, that of life. Monstrous rappers, supported by wonderful productions, mostly dark, heavy, entrusted to the Organized Noize. A journey into minimalism, in the obsessive repetition of magically adapted sound samples and in the mind of a group of Mc forced to live hell, day after day. The music of the Dirty South, stupid idiots. A scream that could have easily overshadowed even New York of that time, of 1995.
4 Mc who devastate the microphone, spitting rhymes with the precision of a metronome and flaunting an absolutely enviable flow; above all stands Cee Lo Green, who here and there even devotes himself to singing. An authentic genius with absolute verve, a compelling and charismatic rapper.
Little Horn 2.0: authentic salvation of the site, an authentic natural disaster. An idol above idols, a fool above fools. One who has been eaten and immediately spit out by this dog world; a bit like what happened to the Goodie. They found the strength to go on, I a little less. And I'm tired, of hearing the devil talking to me, of death becoming more and more fascinating and of Belen's ass, absolutely unattainable. DAT ASS!!!!
But I don’t give up: Jay Z in 95 slept in his car worse than a bum; 19 years later, he fucks Beyoncé while counting billions. And if he could do it too, damn.....
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Free (01:23)
Lord it's so hard, living this life
ah constant struggle each and every day
Some wonder why I'd rather die
than to continue living this way
Many are blind and cannot find
the truth cuz no-one seems to really know
But I won't accept that this is how it's gon to be
Devil ya got ta let me and my people go
Cuz I wanna be free
Completely free
Lord won't you please come and save me
Cuz I wanna be free
02 Thought Process (05:09)
Let me get a chop at this lumber niggas
From da down underground are hangin' around the A-Town
Lookin' for a come up, workin' from 9 to 5
Just to get some change so T-Mo can stay alive
Not greedy or living' lavish yet but you can bet that when I do
Nobody from my crew will I forget
And if I start to get large and come up on some change
I won't change, everybody know they down
It's not the same, everyday life can be different
These laws got me ready to brawl
Cause I fall a victim so I still be slanging them fat pillows
To make 'em meet, each and every day as I comb my city streets
Sometimes I wish I never had been apart of this mess
Cause the system got us fucked up
It put us to the test, women and men if you black you in
Food for the soul listen to what I tell you it don't matter
Young or old it's time we loc' up and do like we suppose
We killin' each other over this bullshit and some clothes
We're trapped off in this world and society with no place else to go
So how U feel???
Frustrated, irritated, sometimes I don't know myself, I be too numb
To feel something sometimes so I dig deep, get in the Cherokee
Let my mind fly free into the wilderness so I can get this shit off my
mind
That's why I be smokin' that dank sometimes, it keeps me from snappin'
Keeps me calm, keeps my mind open, keeps me fond of what I gots to do
Off in the studio to get my old bird back on her feet, and my little
bro'
In Statesboro and my little cuz Mark Twain, all my
Folks that hang with me when I was out in the trap or when I was goin'
Thru one of our episodes, only god knows, whut I go thru so I get down
On my knees, sometimes I come home too high to pray, but I get on my bed
Lay on my back and meditate, anyway, in the ceilings, the four walls,
it's
Like cell therapy I got nothing to do but write about my L-I-F-E, put it
Down on paper...So whut chu feel?
I live for today, motherfuck another hour, it might be sour
Never know my day, so I'm prayin' in the shower
Look up and thank the Lord for forgiveness, a witness to bad
I'm lookin' for good in the Southwest, God bless my neighborhood
It's people killin' in da street to eat
Surviving the day is the only goal that I set
Just to make it home, I'm not alone
Someone's out to get me when I haven't done shit wrong
My head felt swoll, mista couldn't see past my mouth
What route did you take man
Caught me by that loops of my pants
Got me on the curb lettin' tha traffic pass me by
No questions, I said nothing
Lookin' for tha mutant to be buckin'
Tha law naw, man Gipp show him my shit
Close my mouth then I dip
See to me G is a person who understand tha plan
Can't make no moves when you in tha hands of tha man
They got some new suites down Peachtree
Left wing for tha Feds, right wing for tha hardheads
Makin' more deals than Buddy Folks made with Hartsfield
Somebody don't want my face in tha place, for 96 shit's slick
Got me clean, lookin' fresh, dogs be scratchin' at my chest
Under the order of who? Guess who ain't non-iller than miller
Wanna 1, 2 your ass no more life what you gave was tha past
Cuz ain't no future wanna millicamp your case
Disgrace your face, make it seem to be safe
But ain't no place to run...
Sometimes I don't even know how I'm gon' eat
'Bout twenty dollars away from being on the street
Shit, you might see a nigga on tv
But hell it's almost like I'm rappin' for free
That little money be gone...god dammit, I'm grown
Gotta help keep the heat and lights on
It would be nice to have mo' but I kinda like being po'
At least I know what my friends here fo'
I wanna lie to you sometimes, but I can't
I wanna tell you that it's all good, but it ain't
It's nigga's hurtin' and uncertain sbout if they gon' make it or not
That's why we got nigga's killing
Feelin like they coming up off a little dope they sold
You can get some gold but we won't make it as a whole
Cause without you there'd be no me
And without no unity there will never be any happiness
You could smoke a pound of sess and it still won't relieve yo' stress
God bless my...thought process
The thought process...
Now as an Outkast I was born, wasn't warned of the harm
That would come to meet me like Met Life, but yet life
Done sent me through a lot of up's and down like it ain't nothing'
Like elevators but I ain't the one that's pushin' the buttons
I got off at the 13th floor, when they told me that it wasn't one
They said it skipped from 12 to 14
Still smoking, still drinking, no I'm sittin' on the Lincoln
4 A.M. thinkin' that in reality the world is like a ball full of playas
We trapped off in this maze with walls made of layers
And only prayers is the tightest game that you can have
The devil's takin' a swing that might explain the broken glass
But my crystal ball see the pistol fall to the wayside
Nobody would die in cops and robbers when we used to play right
Huh, the only thang we feared was Williams, Wayne
Never though about hittin' licks or slangin' caine
Did not think I'd be the one to give in to abortion
Label me murder because my ass is scorchin'
Hot from the glock that sits under my seat
Yeah, it's real fucked up that my folks come to get me
And it's like dat, yeah...and it's like dem!
05 Cell Therapy (04:37)
When the scene unfolds
Young girls thirteen years old
Expose themselves to any Tom, Dick, and Hank
Got mo' stretch marks than these hoes
Hollin they got rank
See Sega aint in this new world order
Dem experimenting in Atlanta, Georgia
United Nations, overseas
they trained assassins to do search and seize
Aint knocking or asking
Dem coming for niggas like me
Po' white trash, like they
Tricks like her back in slavery
Concentration camps lace with gas pipes lines
Inferno's outdoors like they had back
When Adolf Hitler was living in 1945
Listen to me now, believe me
Later on in the future look it up
Where they say it? Aint no more Constitution
In the event of a race war
Places like operation heartbreak hotel
Moments tear until air tight vents seat off despair
Dem say expect no mercy
Foot you should be my least worries got to deal with
Where my W-2's, 1099's
Unmarked black helicopters swoop down
And try to put missiles in mines
Who's that peeking in my window
POW nobody now
Me and my family moved in our apartment complex
A gate with the serial code was put up next
The claim that this community is so drug free
But it don't look that way to me cause I can see
The young bloods hanging out at the sto 24/7
Junkies looking got a hit of the blo it's powerful
Oh you know what else they tryin to do
Make a curfew especially for me and you the traces of the new world order
Time is getting shorter if we don't get prepared
People it's gone be a slaughter
My mind won't allow me to not be curious
My folk don't understand so they don't take it serious
But every now and then, I wonder
If the gate was put up to keep crime out or to keep our ass in
Who's that peeking in my window
POW nobody now
Listen up little niggaz I'm talking to you
About what yo little ass need to be going through
I fall a victim too and I know I shouldn't smoke so much
But I do with the crew everybody on the average 'bout 4 or 5
I'm lucky to be alive at sunrise now I realize the cost
After I lost my best friend Bean I recognize as a King
Who am I to tell you to stop smokin
Now you're open to disease and colds
And aint 16 years old, this shit has got to stop
Let's take a walk through detox
I want outta this hold I'm in a cell under attack
Loc up folks they in the hood, got an eye on every move
I make open your face to info you aint know
Cause it's kept low how the new world plan
Reeks the planet without the black man
So what's your angle, try to separate me from the blood
is disrespect like coming in my home and not
Wiping your feet on tha rug
the Citron Absolut has got me bucking no hang with no phony
lookout for the man with tha mask and the white pony
On my back are bills staying off my toes always on my heels
Insane, plain, soldiers coming in the dark by plane
To enforce the new system by reign
Tag my skin with your computer chip
Run your hand over tha scanner to buy you dish now
No more fishing for your fish
Kiss tha days of tha old days past ways gone
Mind blown, conception, protection
My name on your selections but I caught you coming POW!
Who's that peeking in my window
POW nobody now
08 Serenity Prayer (00:09)
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change
Courage to change the things I can
And wisdom to know the difference
12 Goodie Bag (04:25)
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da SWAT's red hots don't drip or bleed
Cuz', you know me, givin' me left hand dap
P-funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son
A cool breeze got my lips chap, mornin' slap some
Soul in my bread basket gap contain "X" marks the spot
twain, O.C. the cut layin'
a stew of empty gas in my tank
A buck thirty lookin' ugly - think, but it ain't gonna stop no show
Ol' burd puttin a buzz in you ear
"It's gonna snow" or maybe perhaps sleet
Rap up the beat outside barely made it to your wake
Lookin' like Mr. Fisher, dickie down no suit, no tie
Niggaz ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'
You leavin' the hotel - 254
Today was good to me
I went to the Goodwill with the ten dollar bill
Got that London Fog out tha back paid tha man
Me and Khujo and T-Boo, three jack lumbers on tha loose
Cut your ass Lo like Cee, be under tha water
Half these figures around me be hollering Newt
Now what the fuck has this politician did for you
Complain, complain but Mr. Clampett ain't gon' change
Just ribb your ass up just to gut your pockets out
I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks
That they found in they house beat up
And I don't discuss that color scheme that they fall on
Cuz tha scheme that they fall on don't match wit my tone
See, I wonder will I walk tha streets in 1995
And not have to make bond from 254
Uh, will somebody please turn the lights on 166
I can't see where tha fuck I'm going, I can't do shit but get mad
I can't keep get Billie and his uncle out my fuckin' Goodie Bag...
Without your shank you can't thank
Without your niggas you up the creek
Stank with a ass fool of ore takin' what I say for what it's worth
It don't matter cuz how I feel might be triggered
From thoughts I had in the past
Now I struggle to reach the sky why try so hard
If all I'ma get is spit on
Cause life at the bottom ain't hittin on shit
But some of these folks is gettin rich
I know about mines, unwind, can't take at times going through
The same drama that got me here in this state of mind...
Red-hot in the summer time
First of all, I stand a little more than five feet tall
But we can still brawl nigga, I ain't scared at all
I guess you niggas don't know or can't see
That it ain't even wise steppin' to me incorrectly
But yet still when nigga's feel they can deal
I will split yo' ass up for real
Cause we the maniacs with the chunky Goodie sac's
So I don't carry an ax, but I still swing low with the lumber jax trax
Are being made by Organo-i-z-e
Why we coolin' in the shade ain't gettin paid
For chillin, illin' willin' to do what I got to do
To come thru your speaker
Cee-Lo, he will never come weaker
Uniquer than a lot of emcees out today
Because I'm more than careful about what I say
When I pick up a microphone it's on
Them better leave me alone, I'm in my zone
Prone to snap if you offer me a chance
Like it when them chunky hoes can dance
I'll enhance the microphone when it's in my grip, I do not slip
I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T-Mo, and Gipp
Ha, ha, ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?
It seems like he has a mouth fulla gold teeth
I smile because your eyes can't take the glare
But Cee-Lo, him don't care, I cut off all my hair
And everybody stop and stare when we come in the place
And I can get on the mic wit no time to waste
Get right up in yo' face, kick the flavor you taste
And when I'm on the microphone it's a damn disgrace
How you don't comprehend what I'm saying to you
And I'm the C, the double E from the Goodie Mo Crew
I'm coming thru, I'm comin' true, ooh I can't even stop
It's Cee-Lo B, I'm down wit that nigga pop, pop, pop and my nigga Mike L
And Bert P and my nigga Pretty Ken, you know he down wit me
We from Atlanta, G-A, that is where we stay
I'm diggin all in the Goodie Bag each 'n ever day
Ooooh shit!!
13 Soul Food (03:56)
My old boy from the point
But I'm from Southwest and every
Now and then I get put to the test
But I can't be stopped
Cause I gotta come true ain't go no gun
But I got my crew
Didn't come fro no beef cause I don't eat steak
I got a plate of soul food chicken, rice and gravy
Not covered in too much
Drinking a cup of punch, tropical
Every last Thursday of the month
Daddy put tha hot grits on my chest in tha morning
When I was sick Mary had tha hot soup boiling
Didn't know why but it felt so good
Like some waffles in that morning
Headed back to tha woods
Now I'm full as tick
Got some soul on blast in tha cassette
Food for my brain
I haven't stopped learning yet
Hot wings from Mo-Joes
Got my forehead sweating
Celery and blue cheese on my menu next
Southern Fry won't allow my body to lie still
Tied face goons surround me like cancer drill
me with second-hand obstables
But, only to make matters worse
Plus I'm getting pimped by this temp lady Jackie
From Optima staffing figure laughing
Shut up clown don't talk to me
Like that looking stupid of course
living day by day and you ain't hard
Trick hell you say?
It's such a blessing when my eyes
Get to see the sun rise
To get further away from where I've been
But I'll never gorget everythang I went through
I appreciate the shit because
If I hada went and took the easy way
i wouldn't be the strong nigga that I am today
Everythang that I did
Different thangs I was told
Just ended up being tood for my soul
Come and get yo' soul food, well well
Good old-fashioned soul food, all right
Everythang is for free
As good as it can be
Come and get some soul food
Sunday morning where you reating at?
I'm on 1365 Wichita Drive
Ole' burd working the stove ride
Churches dripping chicken in yesterday's grease
Didn't go together with this quart of Mickey's
Last night hanging over from a good time
yeah beef is cheaper but
It's pumped with "red dye" between two pieces of bread
Shawty look good with dem hairy legs
Wish I could cut her up but, ma stomach come before sex
A house full of hoes now what's the ingredient
Spaghetty plus her monthly flow
They know they making it hard on the yard
Fuck Chris Darden, fuck Marsha Clark
Taking us when we're in the spotlight for a joke
Changing by the day I see it's getting bigga in my square
Looking at Lenox from the outside
With a stare no money to go inside
Tameka and Tiffany outside tripping
And skipping rope to the beats from my jeep
As I speak wuz up from the driver seat
A heaping helping of fried chicken
Macaroni and cheese and collard greens
Too big for my jeans
Somke steams from under the lid that's on the pot
Ain't never had allot but thankful for
The little that I got why not be
Fast food got me feeling sick
Them crackers think they sick
By trying to make this bullshit affordable
I thank the Lord taht my voice was recordable
Come an get your soul food well well..
Hold up C it's what I write
And Miss Lady acting like we in jail
Says she ain't got no extra hush puppis to sell
Bankhead seafood making me hit that door
With a mind full of attitude
It was a line at tha beautiful
JJ'S Ribshack was packed too
Looking to be one of dem days
When Momma ain't cooking
Everybody's out hunting with tha family
Looking for a little soul food
Come and get yo' soul food, well well
Good old-fashioned soul food, all right
Everythang is for free
As good as it can be
Come and get some soul food
18 Cee-Lo (00:28)
I knew, I kinda pieced together what they was kinda trying to say man
because in a way, God is everything, yaknowhatI'msayin? He he he workin
through them crackers to save us, in a sense, knowhatI'msayin? The evil
that they do. I mean he made the devil, you understand whatI'msayin?
So the evil that they do it it, I mean knowhatI'msayin, it's only
supposed to bring something outta us in a way, ya understand, so is it
bad, understand whatI'msayin? Is it bad that they are the way they are
because it it it's helping us it's it's opening our eyes to some things,
yaknowhatI'msayin?
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