Benz Or Beemer - 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 

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 

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."}