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​Thought Process

This song is by Goodie Mob, features Andre 3000 and appears on the album Soul Food (1995).

Original video
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
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 ball '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 you feel?

Frustrated, irritated, sometimes I don't know myself I be too numb
To feel something sometimes so I dig deep
Go 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 burd 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
What 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 what you 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 goat 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' the 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...got dammit, I'm gone
Gotta help keep the heat and tights on
It would be nice to have mo' but I kinda like being poor
At least I know what my friends here for

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 about if they gon' make it or not
That's why we got nigga's killing

Feeling 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 floks come to get me
And it's like dat
Yeah...and it's like dem!

Written by:

Robert Barnett / André Benjamin / Patrick Brown / Thomas Burton / Cameron Gipp / Willie Knightion / Ray Murray / Rico Wade