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Outkast - Elevators Me Y You Exhibit A Transformations Mixed Lyrics

[Intro: André 3000]
One— One for the money, yes, sir, two for the show
A couple of years ago on Head—
One— One— One—

[Verse 1: André 3000 & Big Boi]
One for the money, yes, sir, two for the show
A couple of years ago on Headland and Delowe
Was the start of something good
Where me and my nigga rode the MARTA through the hood
Just tryna find that hookup
Now, every day, we looked up at the ceiling (Yeah)
Watching ceiling fans go 'round, tryna catch that feeling off instrumentals
Had my pencil, and plus, my paper
We caught the 86 Lithonia, headed to Decatur
Writing rhymes, tryna find our spot off in that light
Light off in that spot, knowing that we could rock
Doing the hole-in-the-wall clubs, this shit here must stop
Like, "Freeze!" We making the crowd move, but we not making no G's
And that's a no-no (Check it, a-one, two, a-one, two)

[Verse 2: Big Boi]
Two dope niggas in the Cadillac they call us
Went from "Player's Ball" to ballers
Putting the South up on the map was like Little Rock to banging
Niggas say, "Motherfuck that playin'," they payin', we stayin', layin' vocals
Locales done made it with them big boys up in this industry
"Outkast, yeah, them niggas, they making big noise"
Over a million sold to this day, niggas, they take it lightly
'96 gon' be that year that all y'all player haters can bite me, I'm out this bitch
[Chorus: Outkast]
Me and you
Your mama and your cousin, too
Rolling down the strip on Vogues
Coming up, slamming Cadillac doors
Me and you
Your mama and your cousin, too
Rolling down the strip on Vogues
Coming up, slamming Cadillac doors (Green Lantern)

[Verse 2: Jay Electronica]
I spit that Wonderama shit, me and my conglomerates
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest shit
Get that type of media coverage Obama get
Spit that Kurt Vonnegut
That blow your brain, Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana shit
Who gon' bring the game back?
Who gon' spit that Ramo on the train tracks?
That gold rope, that five-finger ring rap, running with my same pack
You can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at
Life is like a dice game
One roll could land you in jail or cutting cake, blowing kisses in the rice rain
Nice whip, nice chain, a closet of skulls
The stench is like slave blood in Providence Hall, yeah
They built my city on top of a grave
Nigga die, nigga get high and watch the parade
Back in the early '90s, where they at, where they at
Get the gat, get the gat was a popular phrase
Bally Animals and Rugbys was a popular craze
This the vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave
I pave ways like Nat and Harriet
I'll blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in the chariot, uh
I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains
Ain't a damn thing changed
[Interlude: Bill & Winkelmann]
How does he do it?
My young lad, you ask a dolphin how it swims? (No)
Or an eagle how it flies? (No)
That's right, you don't!