[Intro: Big Rube]
Conceive true deception, multiplied a million-fold
Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense that we get em confused
The resident evil specialize in misconstruing
We wanna be at a presidential level—what are we doing?
Fooling ourselves, clowning ourselves, playing ourselves
But not being ourselves
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we 40 'cause we can't get off meat
While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season
Look at the picture that's painted
Tainted is the mind that's blinded to the point where Sodomites get all the rights
We fall for fights with fisticuffs
Get pissed enough to miss the bus
It disgusts me to see my folks run up on
I say stand up on the section of time marked Revelations
And recognize this mind-numbing reality of horror known as mankind
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
A righteous number of righteous men
Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end
The Devil say "The end is the beginning"
They teach that we were the product of incest
Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics
Stand with us and don't look back upon–this faceless mindstate
Otherwise, Babylon
[Pre-Chorus: Debra Killings]
Like memories of yesterday...

[Scratch break: Big Boi sample, (André 3000)]
"'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..."
"'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..."
"'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..." (Like that)
"'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah..."

[Verse 1: André 3000]
I bet you never heard of a playa with no game
Told the truth to get what I want, but shot it with no shame
Take this music dead serious, while others entertain
I see they're making their paper, so I guess I can't complain
Or can I? I feel they disrespecting the whole thang
Them hoax, like selling dope to Black folks
And I choke when the food they serving ain't tasting right
My stomach can't digest it, even when I bless it
I'm confessing, one more lesson, from the South, we in the house tonight
Now "hootie who" wants to oppose? Suppose
We roll through Headland and Delowe
Where me and my n***as would pass the flow
And got down for ours like hind catchers
My mind catches flashbacks to the black past
While mind-closed n***as laugh at
The Southern slang, finger waves, and Mojo chicken wangs
I grew up on Booty Shake, we did not know no better thang
So go 'head and diss it, while real hop-hippers listen
Started by Afrika Bambaataa, so you and your partner
Gather your thoughts ("'96 gonna be that year...")
[Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)]
Something's gotta change
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
("'96 gonna be that year...")
Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way
Like memories of yesterday

[Verse 2: Big Boi]
Uhh, born Antwan Patton, but my partners they call me Big Boi
It's the n***a, the B-I-G, be speaking the truth, not talking that shit, boi
I'm thinking of checking my traps and busting my raps
And throwing them craps
7-Eleven is no "convenience," you pumping your gas, they watching your back
For the robbing crew, thinking'a robbing you – you must be cautious
See, staying up on your game, and pimping these crows, you must be "flawless"
Like 'Mortal Kombat', but fuckin' these wombats got you dizzy
My n***a, you moreover wanna be playin', but runnin' up on me like you miss me
You catching the wrong vibe, packin' your shit, and rolling your eyes back
Flexin' up on the corner, tossin' your dice, and rollin' your Cadillac
But, man, it seems I'm reaching out and touching the wrong n***a
Don't expect it to be pimping, and get your index off the trigger
As we bust – us, we leavin 'em in the dust
So keep that 'caine up out of your nose, I said my peace and then I hush
As the calendar keeps flippin', n***as dippin'...
("'96 gonna be that year..." "Yeah...")
[Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)]
Something's gotta change
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way
("'96 gonna be that year...")
Like memories of yesterday

[Verse 3: André 3000]
Our dearly beloved, we are gathered
Like soap is to lather, we come clean
Some issues need to be addressed, like envelopes, I mean
Oh, like Liberty Bells, yes, them bullets keep on ringing
On fire, like the Georgia Mass Choir, we keep on sanging
Bringing our folks closer together, 'cause they severed us from the "get-green–
Light," and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen
Sike, because no one is free when others are oppressed
So, we hit the stage, and then we fly back to our nest
Growing old

[Verse 4: Big Boi]
Like some eagles, people don't understand
Just like their parents don't be caring
I'm speakin' about you, player, with that phony stuff you sharing
In your raps – Mercedes Benz and all your riches
Figure you got it, but "get it, get it"?
But you ain't pimping no bitches
'Cause you flaw–ing; fall in like leaves into driveways
Isn't it lovely, smoking good and sloppy head on highways?
Fridays are tight, but Saturday just makes it old
Winter nights are hot, warm enough to feed your soul
Growing old... yeah...

[Chorus: Debra Killings, (Big Boi sample)]
Something's gotta change
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way
Like memories of yesterday
("'96 gonna be that year...")

Something's gotta change
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
("'96 gonna be that year...")
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
("'96 gonna be that year...")
Looks like breezes of Autumn have finally blew my way
Like memories of yesterday... yesterday... yesterday...

[Outro: André 3000]
...See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old
Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab
Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab
Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em
See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old
Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab
Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab
Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em
See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old
Fat titties turn to teardrops, as fat ass turns to flab
Sores that was open wounds, eventually turn to scab
Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown – Autumn caught 'em
See, all them leaves must fall down – growin' old