🎵 B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) // by OutKast

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B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) cover

B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad)

by
Stankonia September 19, 2000 📍 Larrabee Sound Studios 👁 661,335
🎧 37,746 listeners ▶ 194,157 plays IMUDB Ranking 8.6/10 Based on how many times this track has been played on Last.fm — not a critic score.
Outkast - B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) (Official HD Video)
OutkastVEVO · 37,779,628 views · 316,658 likes
About this song (Last.fm)
"B.O.B" ("Bombs Over Baghdad") is a song by American rap duo Outkast from their fourth studio album Stankonia (2000). It was released as the album's lead single on August 29, 2000, through LaFace Records and Arista Records. Produced by Earthtone III, the song features a high-speed tempo beat consisting of drum and bass rhythms, guitars, organs, and gospel vocals. Although not a huge commercial success, the song has been cited as one of the greatest songs of all time by publications such as Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Blender and Complex. Read more on Last.fm.

🎛️ Credits

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Written by
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Background Vocals
Arranger
Guitar
Guitar Solo
Keyboards
Scratches
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Assistant Recording Engineer
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Assistant Mixing Engineer
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Lyrics · Genius ↗
164 Contributors B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) Lyrics For the lead single to their fourth album, Stankonia, OutKast took the space funk of their sophomore album ATLiens along with the heightened consciousness of their third album Aquemini and advanced to… Read More  [Intro: André 3000] One, two One, two, three, yeah! [Verse 1: André 3000] Inslumnational, underground Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!) Like a million elephants or silverback orangutans You can't stop the train Who want some? Don't come unprepared I'll be there, but when I leave there Better be a household name Weatherman tellin' us it ain't gon' rain So now we sittin' in a drop-top, soakin' wet In a silk suit, tryin' not to sweat Hit somersaults without the net But this'll be the year that we won't forget The 1-9-9-9 Anno Domini, anything goes Be what you wanna be as long as you know Consequences are given for livin' The fence is too high to jump in jail Too low to dig, I might just touch hell—hot! Get a life, now they on sale Then I might cast you a spell Look at what came in the mail A scale and some Arm & Hammer Soul-gold grill and a baby mama Black Cadillac and a pack of Pampers Stack of questions with no answers Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days Get back home, things are wrong Well not really, it was bad all along Before you left adds up to a ball of power Thoughts at a thousand miles per hour Hello, ghetto, let yo' brain breathe Believe there's always mo', ow! [Chorus: André 3000 & Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Yeah, ha, ha, yeah) Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Yeah, oh-ah) Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Ha, ha, ha, yeah) Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! [Verse 2: Big Boi] Uno, dos, tres, it's on Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone? Like that there, boy, and will still stay street Big things happen every time we meet Like a track team, crack fiend dyin' to geek OutKast bumpin' up and down the street Slant back Cadillac, 'bout five niggas deep 75 MC's freestylin' to the beat 'Cause we get crunk, stay drunk, at the club Shoulda bought an ounce, but you copped a dub Shoulda held back, but you throwed a punch 'Posed to meet your girl but you packed a lunch No D to the U to the G for you Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo Got a little baby girl, four-year—Jordan Never turned my back on my kids, for them Should've hit it, quit it, rag-top Before you re-up, get a laptop Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals Make a fat diamond out of dusty coal Record number four, but we on a roll Hold up, slow up, stop, "Control" Like Janet, Planet, Stankonia's on ya Moving like Floyd, comin' straight to Florida Lock all your windows, then block the corridors Pullin' off my belt 'cause a whipping's in order Like a three-piece fish 'fore I cut your daughter Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border Pitty-pat rappers tryna get to five I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive When you come to ATL, boy, you better not hide 'Cause the Dungeon Family gon' ride, ha-ha! [Chorus: André 3000 & Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Ah, yeah) Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Ah, yeah) Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! (Y'all over, yeah) Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! [Break: Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! Bombs over Baghdad, yeah! [Bridge: André 3000, Big Boi] André B-I-G B-O-I Bob, bob, bob, bob OutKast South of Georgia [Outro: André 3000 & Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top Bob your head, rag-top (One, two, one, two, three, let's go!) 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