Outkast Hello World Its Me Again

The first name that teenaged André Benjamin and Antwan Patton settled on for their rap group was 2 Shades Deep, a fine name except that there was another crew in Atlanta that went past four Shades Deep, and even if in that location was no copyright involved, there was a rule against biting. The 2nd name the ii chose was Misfits. In that case, there was a copyright involved, and if André and Antwan had never heard of Glenn & Co., they knew it was best to stay away. Simply they identified with the sentiment backside the name: "We didn't desire to be compared to anybody," Antwan says in Roni Sarig's 2007 volume about Southern hip-hop, The 3rd Coast. "Nosotros wanted our name to mean 'apart from the norm.'" And so they pulled out a thesaurus, found a word like to "misfits" and made a slight tweak to the spelling, and but similar that Outkast was built-in.

That moment came nearly thirty years ago, when the artists who would go André 3000 and Large Boi were just a pair of broad-eyed Atlanta teenagers in love with the music of De La Soul and Das EFX, hoping to impress producers Organized Noize and Laface Records label head 50.A. Reid. A lot has inverse since then: They recorded four archetype albums—each more adventurous than the last—and sold x one thousand thousand copies of their fifth. They won over critics, both white and Black alike, and won a scattering of Grammys. They gave Southern hip-hop a battle cry, and they gave East Declension purists a Southern group to latch onto. They went to the secret, and so to outer infinite, and then back to Atlanta. I started dressing differently. The other started breeding pit bulls. And together they changed the sound of popular music in the procedure.

On Saturday, Outkast's seminal fourth, Stankonia, turns 20. It'due south not their best album (that'south Aquemini) and it's non the ane that fabricated them household names your mom would recognize (that's the one with "Hey Ya!"), but it is their most daring, influential endeavor. Yous tin read about the album's legacy—and how it planted the seeds for the group's dissolution—elsewhere on The Ringer today. Here, we want to celebrate the best songs in the Outkast discography (aye, we even accounted for the solo songs recorded for Speakerboxxx/The Honey Below). 50 of them to be exact. Information technology includes all the hits and classics yous've come to love, plus the deep album cuts and B-sides that show off their versatility. (And in one boggling case, information technology includes a Dre and Large Boi guest spot that'south likewise iconic non to account for.) Through it all, a theme emerges: André and Big Boi may accept been one of the most popular and respected hip-hop groups of all time, but they accomplished those things their own way. True to their name, they were outcasts, even if they gave the globe no choice but to embrace them. —Justin Sayles

l. "Gangsta Shit" (Stankonia, 2000)

The best Outkast songs sound like how I imagine their weekends wait. There were bigger songs like that on Stankonia, similar "Then Fresh, So Clean," "B.O.B.," and "Ms. Jackson"—I wasn't 10 years old when the album came out, but can conspicuously recall football pads paired with vaquero chaps, Sleepy Dark-brown in a fur glaze, and nodding business firm pets. "Gangsta Shit," buried 20 songs into the album, isn't as flashy or iconic, simply is simply as audacious, managing to practise that Stankonia thing where it'south incredibly decorated with diverse sound—guitars, drums, synths, whinier synths, layered vocals—but not claustrophobic. So crazy that information technology works. —Micah Peters

49. "Myintrotoletuknow" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Equally the get-go real song off the first Outkast album—and one with the word intro in the title—"Myintrotoletuknow" is worth dissecting to run into what Big Boi and André were trying to tell u.s.. And what jumps out immediately is their paranoia about the present: "Time and time again see I exist thinking well-nigh that future," Big Boi opens the first verse; "Time is slipping, slowly but surely," Dre opens his. They were but 19 years one-time, fresh out of high school and but beginning their recording career. They should've been excited, perhaps a little boastful. Instead, they were already wary, eager to get to the next stage. Looking back, information technology seems obvious that the most forward-thinking rap group of all time would've been focused on the futurity since their inception. But when they called their shot in 1994, they didn't know what that futurity held, just that they needed to get there. —Sayles

48. "Wheelz of Steel" (ATLiens, 1996)

Similar many other Outkast songs, the indisputable grooviness of "Wheelz of Steel"—which emanates from the Focus III–sampled beat, infectious hook, and unfaltering flows—can easily engulf Large Boi and André's wisdom. One moment I'm nodding my caput and listening to Big Boi tell a short story about how he'll never get caught lacking again, and so all of sudden André 3000 is running through walls in my brain like the Juggernaut talking about cod liver oil and the Illuminati. But in that location isn't even the slightest sign of turbulence as the two trade verses. And just as my encephalon starts to fry from André opening my third centre, the hook and scratches courtesy of Mr. DJ come in and my feet start moving as my mind goes numb again. —Jonathan Kermah

47. "13th Floor / Growing Old" (ATLiens, 1996)

ATLiens is an album about a group on the ascension, and "13th Floor/Growing Old," the album'south last track, shows the responsibility that comes with rise. Dre speaks on the group's bloodshed while Big Boi criticizes hip-hop's growing infatuation with commercialism. "I'thou speaking 'bout y'all playing with that phony stuff you sharing," the latter raps. "In your raps Mercedes-Benz and all your riches." In total, information technology's the assertion point on an album that put the rest of the globe on notice that this group and this region had a vox in music, all the while explaining that it comes at an emotional price. —Logan Murdock

46. "The Whole World" (Large Boi & Dre Nowadays … Outkast, 2001)

There's a satisfyingly ~*~chilling~*~ vibe to this song, which came out as a previously unreleased rail on the 2001 greatest hits album Big Boi & Dre Present … Outkast. The vocals in its chorus sound similar a choir of friendly ghosts. Its hook could easily work in tinkling MIDI form in a subterranean level of an Addams Family unit Game Boy game. André 3000 wears Dia de los Muertos face up paint in the music video, while Killer Mike steals the show (Randy Moss–fashion) with his verse.

And all the same the vocal's message is somehow even darker and more existential than all of these details let on. It characterizes the extractive human relationship between artist and audition in kinda horror-picture terms. Can't you lot but imagine a Blumhouse poster with the words "The whole world loves it when you sing the blues" and no farther context haunting the rest of your day? Apologies if it already is. —Katie Baker

45. "The Rooster" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

The Speakerboxxx appreciator has logged on. You tin view Outkast's second-to-last album as the beginning of the breakup of one of the most brilliant duos of all fourth dimension—or as the start of Big Boi's exceptional solo career. On "The Rooster," Big Boi talks about a different uncoupling—the stop of marriage—and doesn't sound quite ready to get solo with regard to parenting. He shines, rapping over a million horns, and gets to do it for merely almost a whole anthology. —Rodger Sherman

44. "Mainstream" (ATLiens, 1996)

Outkast achieved enormous acclaim during the mid-1990s with their debut, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. Merely as ATLiens' "Mainstream" suggests, "everything ain't always peaches and cream," especially when one is on the ascension. The T-Mo-and–Khujo-assisted track's title is a play on words about the struggles of fame and the dope game. To understand the bailiwick matter is to sympathise Outkast in 1996. They were coming off a successful anthology, and they had the fame. Merely they also had the burden of carrying a region not yet primed to run music and the reputation that they've ascended past their childhood peers back home. "Mainstream" pushes back on the notion, showing that no matter how far Dre and Big Boi become, they're still two dudes from the A. —Murdock

43. "Snappin' & Trappin'" (Stankonia, 2000)

For a long time, Killer Mike was difficult to pin downward. He was a petty crunk, a little Memphis, a little Ludacris: he had all these phases. Just Stankonia located his knack for hefty, hateful broadsides over dark, squirrely beats. I know Killer Mike and El-P met in the early 2010s, but, substantially, Run the Jewels begins with "Snappin and Trappin'." —Justin Charity

42. "Bowtie" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

In 1996, Outkast was just ii dope boys in a Cadillac. Somewhere along the line, André pursued other forms of transportation, merely in this preposterously funky song off of Speakerboxxx, Big Boi asserts that we can still phone call him the gangsta mack in a Cadillac. On "Bowtie," Big Boi identifies himself every bit Lucious Left Foot and collaborates with Sleepy Brown, who's credited as a featured artist for the showtime time later on years of providing some of Outkast's more iconic hooks. Antwan is smooth as a baby's bottom rapping—and briefly singing—almost putting on (and taking off) clothes culled from a diverseness of species of dead animals. Equally it turns out, he's got a slightly dissimilar vision of seduction than the one André sings about on The Beloved Beneath. —Sherman

41. "Slump" (Aquemini, 1998)

From the opening baby wail it'due south pretty clear that this song is about grinding. If "West Savannah" is Large Boi'southward firstborn, dedicated to his roots "way earlier" he "started rapping," "Slump" is his 2nd child, written in honor of the hustle he knows all also well. With 2 features from Dungeon Family kin Backbone and Absurd Cakewalk, the track is a reformulation of the historic period-old southern work song. The chorus is a pseudo-sequel to Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik's "Hootie Hoo," this time delivered over a faith-infused harmony of background vocals. "I'chiliad strictly stressin' dirty dirty," Courage chants, "Gon' correspond it to the T-top / Built-in and bred up on the street meridian / Get to the coin and the sweet spot / And forever hollerin' 'Hootie Hoo!' when nosotros meet cops." With three Stacks taking this track off, Big Boi lives up to his chief billing, fluttering up and down the shell with the dexterity of a hummingbird. "Cops and robbers, niggas exist leap to get them dollars and cents," he sermonizes, "They get in a slump like baseball players when they short on they rent." Even if "Slump" recognizes that the game is rigged, it reminds listeners that some folks withal have to play it. —Lex Pryor

40. "War" (Speakerboxxx/The Dear Below, 2003)

If y'all want me to add together your song to my playlist of saved jawns, throw in a beat change-up. Information technology'south like watching a switch hitter slug a Hr from each side of the plate, if washed effectively. It's surprising and not in the oh-shit-that-ghost-popped-out-of-that-lady's-soul kind of way. "State of war" begins with a telephone call to activity from Big Boi on the full general state of affairs in America. And then Screechy Peach interrupts to remind u.s.a. that something across our control volition imminently accident upwards right in our unassuming faces. It's simply a matter of time. And finally, nail goes the injustice. The media has shucked and jived, politicians are modern-twenty-four hours magicians, and state of war is e'er followed by horror and sorrow. When the beat changes, and so does Big Boi'due south sense of urgency. All he wants is for the population to smell the damn Folgers, and never forget that when Antwan André Patton brings food for thought to the tabular array, you eat! —Keith Fujimoto

Outkast performs in Heaton Park, Manchester, in 2001.

39. "We Luv Deez Hoes" (Stankonia, 2000)

1 of the funniest things that happens in a rap song is when the rapping ceases to exist athletic, or spirited, and just begins to sound … kind of angry, like a scolding. "We Luv Deez Hoez" is an embarrassing vocal that aged poorly, but I express joy every time I get to the terminate of Big Boi's showtime verse:

Aye, I told y'all niggas
About god damn takin' them hoez to the Cheesecake Factory
Lettin' them hoez lodge strawberry lemonade and popcorn shrimps
They ain't goin' exercise nuthin'
But attempt to take all your motherfuckin' cheese! (Yeah!)

Partly considering it's fun to imagine a story involving Cheesecake Manufactory and strawberry lemonade that could work Big Boi up this much, but too because this is i of the few Outkast songs that André isn't on pre-Speakerboxx, which, in some pocket-sized way, means that he couldn't avow it. —Peters

38. "Ain't No Thang" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Coming difficult out of the Dungeon of Organized Noize, the 1994 track "Ain't No Thang" is a statement slice. That argument: Tuck information technology in, everyone else—Outkast is here. Because of everything from The Love Beneath to "Lucious Left Human foot" to André 3000's Anita Bakery clothing line, it'southward sometimes difficult to remember that Outkast was one time just a couple of precocious teenagers navigating the streets of East Point, Georgia. "Own't No Thang" is at present a reminder. Over an urgent, face up-bashing shell—that screech was lifted from a few seconds buried in Miles Davis'due south "Sivad"—both André and Large Boi get two-for-two on verses dripping in aggression, confidence, and wordplay. Information technology's gangsta rap for the S. It'south an arrival. It'south an declaration. Forget New York; forget L.A.; ATL won this day. —Andrew Gruttadaro

37. "Mighty O" (Idlewild, 2006)

If Idlewild—the musical film that birthed Outkast's final-album soundtrack of the same name—was the group'due south symbolic expiry, then "Mighty O" represents its defiant last gasp of air. Backed by a sample of Cab Calloway'southward "Minnie the Moocher," André and Big Boi came together for one terminal alchemic feat as a musical group.

Betwixt 2006 and 2007, André was employing a scorched-globe policy, dominating on every rap poetry he delivered. His appearances on UNK'southward "Walk Information technology Out," Rich Boy'due south "Throw Some D's" and UGK's "International Players Anthem (I Choose You)" were etched into legendary stone the minute they hitting the airwaves. It was a decade removed from André's prediction that the South would transform into a critical and commercial behemoth. And with the emergence of new competitors—Lil Wayne, T.I., Jeezy—André grew emboldened with the spirit of respectability politics and internal rhyme. At i point in "Mighty O," he invites every person in the media to "a double diamond party in the North Pole," which rapidly becomes a tournament where everyone has to pretend to be André 3000. The catalyst for this combative tournament, you ask? Well, 3000 was perturbed that no one liked his sartorial choices.

To Big Boi'due south credit, he backs upwards his partner by comparing Outkast'south detractors to Rumpelstiltskin so throws in a bar about a Dan Brown novel. In summation, the Atlanta group left the game as it had entered it—the all-time. —Charles Holmes

36. "She Lives in My Lap" (Speakerboxxx/The Honey Beneath, 2003)

In 2003, The Love Below was the toast of critics. In 2020, it's mainly remembered as a poor homo's Prince album with a few massive singles. But in that location are worthy tracks beyond "Roses" and "Hey Ya!": "Prototype" is a perfect song near a wounded person rediscovering love; "Spread" is frighteningly sexy; "Take Off Your Cool" certainly plays like Grammy allurement, but it sure sounds adept. But the best moment on The Love Below is "She Lives in My Lap," André'south respond to the Purple 1's "She's Always in My Hair." With Rosario Dawson riding shotgun, Dre unspools a messy tale of friends with benefits that take the potential for more. The beat matches the chaotic energy, with phantom snares and a haunting synth line that rattles in your caput. Perhaps nosotros should retrieve the album more for songs like this. —Sayles

35. "Babylon" (ATLiens, 1996)

I came into this world loftier as a bird from 2nd-hand cocaine powder
I know it sounds cool, I never tooted merely it's in my veins
While the remainder of the country bungies off bridges without no snap back
And bitches they say they demand that to shake they fannies in the ass clubs

André's opening lines to "Babylon," the primal song in the introspective middle portion of 1996's ATLiens, are absorbing. In iv lines, he paints a movie of the difference between choice vs. nature, drug tourism vs. growing upwardly in that world. By the time of the album'southward release, Dre had sworn off drugs and alcohol. So his poetry on "Babylon" may come across as a tad preachy. Just ultimately information technology came from a place of worry—for both society and, crucially, himself. —Sayles

34. "West Savannah" (Aquemini, 1998)

One of the cuts that didn't make it on the Atlanta duo's debut album, "Westward Savannah" was thrown onto Aquemini equally a bonus, according to Big Boi in a 2010 oral history on the Southern rap classic. The four-infinitesimal track feels similar you're sitting backseat on a driving bout of West Savannah, Georgia, with Large Boi at the wheel and Sleepy Brownish riding shotgun. A native of Savannah, Large Boi raps about growing upwardly in his hometown, his family unit, and life in the streets of the Westside projects. The solo cutting is a painting of Big Boi'southward roots and origin story, and is ane of dozens of examples of Outkast's masterful storytelling. Fittingly, when the tour rolls to a cease, it transitions into another lesson on the "Da Art of Storytellin' (Office I)." —Daniel Mentum

33. "Da Art of Storytellin' Pt. two" (Aquemini, 1998)

It'south no wonder that the entries to this series of lyrical explorations would pb to moody edits on YouTube with animated action cartoons—"Da Art of Storytellin'" falls into a subcategory, along with "SpottieOttieDopaliscious," of Outkast Songs That You Have to Read. Narrative journeys that frustratingly have no visual treatments: In "Part 2," André and Big Boi follow the thread of a single, eerily prescient idea.

Imagine yous woke up, looked out the window, and saw the heaven falling. If y'all turned over, would the person you saw be someone you could truly spend the apocalypse with? Could you do it alone? —Peters

32. "Benz or Beamer" (New Jersey Bulldoze, Vol. 1, 1995)

In this Southernplayalistic B-side that fabricated its way onto the legendary New Jersey Drive soundtrack, Outkast momentarily betrayed their loyalty to Sevilles and El Dorados and declared, plainly, "Either desire a Benz or a Beamer." With a rail that sounds this expert, the fine folks at Cadillac probable had a hard time feeling injure. —Sayles

Outkast performs at the Marcus Amphitheatre in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in 1995.

31. "Hootie Hoo" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Amidst all the boiling, luxuriant funk of Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, what strikes yous commencement nigh "Hootie Hoo" is how chilly and stark and ominous information technology is: a menacingly minimalist bass line, a pristine drum break from Black Sabbath's "Behind the Wall of Sleep," and a artless falsetto chant (Hootie hoo!) that blows a fragrant puff of weed smoke into the room with every repetition. Information technology's simple, simply extravagantly simple. "Tight like hallways / Smoked out always," goes the refrain, and lyrically that's all the song really needs. But André 3000's vividly crass verse almost Sat-dark hedonism and its consequences ("At present playing these bitches is my favorite sport / Only own't no game when they be calling your name in the court") is startling long before a daughter calls him ii weeks after with some unwelcome news, and his phone goes click, and the whole track, for just i breathtaking half second, goes silent. It'due south the coldest moment on i of Outkast'southward well-nigh gloriously frigid songs. —Rob Harvilla

xxx. "Humble Mumble" (Stankonia, 2000)

André'southward poesy on "Ms. Jackson," the massive hit unmarried from Stankonia, dealt with his relationship with Erykah Badu, the ex whom he had a son with. The poesy is tender and acknowledges that sometimes honey doesn't work out. But nothing in it would've led you to believe that Badu would show up anywhere near the anthology. So it was shocking when she appeared as a guest—and on one of Stankonia's best songs, nonetheless. "Humble Mumble" starts out serene and beautiful, a gentle African rhythm pulling at a beautiful soundscape, as André and Erykah share the chorus. And and so, halfway through, the beat drops. It'due south non an ambitious driblet, but it's explosive, immediately transforming the rail from a head nodder to an donkey shaker. But even with the bass and drums, the chief attraction remains the former lovers, who were cool enough to set aside whatever drama there may take been for a special moment. (Bonus track: The two shared an equally as great collaboration in 2015 on Badu's "Hello," the sweet closer to her criminally overlooked But You lot Caint Use My Phone.) —Sayles

29. "Return of the 'Thousand'" (Aquemini, 1998)

This was a warning to all the punk motherfuckers: If you try to get a piece of mine, I gotta catch my piece. Self-defense is the simply defence force against the defamation of one'southward self-expression from said punk motherfuckers. Thanks to the gossip, nosotros got a return to Big Boi's and Dre's gangsta selves (and the masterful rhyming of time travelin' with rhyme javelin). The instrumental is anthemic—kudos to the syrupy, orchestral vibes—laying the foundation for the duo to nullify whatsoever of the asinine side-eyes and shade they were getting from their haters/critics. On the hook, the word "gangsta" is drawn out like it was the group's final-resort reminder to everyone that they were gonna relentlessly stick upwards for everything they worked tirelessly to have and, more chiefly, for each other. There's 2 things I learned from multiple listens of this track: Triggered 3000 is like the MJ "it became personal" meme, and Outkast is not Club Nouveau. —Fujimoto

28. "Jazzy Belle" (ATLiens, 1996)

"Jazzy Belle" is a fleck of a deep cut off of Outkast's sophomore endeavour, ATLiens, merely it showcases André 3000 and Big Boi doing what they do best. Wordplaying the biblical queen Jezebel and "Southern belles," the two trade confined nearly relationships and promiscuous women against a smooth beat with no need for whatever chorus. While the original Organized Noize–produced rail more than holds its ain, DJ Swift C's remix—which features an assist from Babyface—is arguably even better. The vocal's new hook and slowed-downwards vanquish gives it a more R&B feel, which is amend fit for the radio. The remix was released every bit the final single for the album, and its extremely '90s music video is yet elite. —Chin

27. "Liberation" (Aquemini, 1998)

Aquemini's penultimate track is preceded past "Nathaniel," an interlude that features a real-life collect call that Atlanta rapper Supa Nate fabricated to Big Boi from jail. Nate rapped a cappella over the telephone, and Large Boi recorded his verse about life in jail and waiting to get out. The phone call perfectly introduces "Liberation," a about ix-infinitesimal Dungeon Family gathering where André, Big Boi, Cee-Lo, Erykah Badu, and Large Rube accept turns singing and speaking of liberty. With elements of jazz, blues, gospel, spoken word, and a somber thou piano backside them, each artist ruminates on what it means to be free. It'southward a journey that touches on the anxieties that come from fame and success, family, organized religion, the music industry, and the Black experience. Over xx years afterward it was released, the vocal's lyrics and themes nonetheless resonate, and information technology remains a standout in Outkast's all-encompassing and stylistically diverse catalogue. —Chin

26. "Gasoline Dreams" (Stankonia, 2000)

"Gasoline Dreams" begins with two very important, albeit rhetorical, questions. André 3000 asks listeners, "Don't everybody similar the odor of gasoline?" before pivoting to a similar question about apple pie. By 2000, Outkast was every bit American as flammable liquids and fruit-filled pastry, but the group'due south magnum opus, Stankonia, felt indebted to a creeping realization. Outkast'south 4th studio album unfolds similar a bombastic enkindling that the American dream is anything but, as the duo raps nearly cancer, AIDS, infidelity, and kid back up. Sonically, "Gasoline Dreams" is akin to the gates of hell opening as André's yelp about losing remainder converges with wailing guitars. Big Boi reminisces about receiving a key to Atlanta even as he'due south still dealing with everything from the mundane (paying taxes) to the all likewise common (racial profiling). Sometimes when you accomplish the summit of popular music it gives you a improve vantage point of what's burning below. —Holmes

25. "The Way Y'all Motility" (Speakerboxxx/The Beloved Below, 2003)

Technically speaking, "The Way You Move" was still part of an Outkast projection, given that it's from the Speakerboxxx/The Dearest Below double anthology that the grouping released in 2003. BUT Actually, "The Style You Move" was understood to be Big Boi's debut as a solo artist, similar to how "Hey Ya" was understood to be André 3000's debut as a solo artist, which also came from the same double anthology and had been released a month earlier. Then at that place'south e'er that catchy history that y'all accept to work your style through whenever you're talking most this song. Y'all have to know that in order to sympathize the biggest reason why this vocal is bang-up, which is that it appear to everyone that if we really were headed toward an eventual dissolution of Outkast, which was a big rumor during this item flow of time, Big Boi, who'd largely been underestimated most by default because of André 3000's overpowering coolness, was going to be just fine. And more than that, Big Boi was going to shine. Which is what he does on "The Way You lot Move." The rubbery charm of his phonation is perfect in the spotlight, and revisiting this vocal at present, it'due south articulate that he aimed to somewhen make his own completely solo masterpiece album, a promise he fulfilled with 2010's Sir Lucious Left Foot. —Shea Serrano

24. "Paradigm" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

Outkast had successfully integrated funk into hip-hop long before, but Speakerboxxx/The Love Below is the natural conclusion of those efforts, and "Epitome" is perhaps the all-time example of that end point. A tiresome-churning ballad driven by a gurgling bass line and André 3000's deft touch, "Prototype" is a transportive jaunt that feels more than than it sounds. (If that makes sense. Writing near Outkast is difficult.) The lyrics' hyperbolic yet grounded approach to beloved ("Allow's become to the movies") is par for the course for André, just let's be honest, you're here for the vibes. And that'southward what "Prototype" has in spades. I'm very stankful for that. —Gruttadaro

23. "Skew It on the Bar-B" (Aquemini, 1998)

As legendary Wu-Tang fellow member Raekwon tells it, before this song no one in the East Coast was listening to any rappers from the South. Only on "Skew It on the Bar-B," the Chef definitely didn't seem out of his element surrounded by some ATLiens. On the Organized Noize–produced shell, he flexes his prowess for moving weight, merely information technology's André's bar warping that perks my ears every time: "I'm sorry, like Atari, who'southward the cousin to Coleco / Vision? Caught a RICO, back on the street similar Chico / DeBarge." —Kermah

22. "Git Up, Git Out" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

What gets swallowed up in the shadow of their excellence is their age. Think near information technology. Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik drops in the fall of '94 and Big and Dre are both a whopping ... 19 years sometime. And then, surrounded past all the posturing bravado and wise-beyond-their-years street knowledge of their debut album, there's "Git Up, Git Out," sitting at track 12, fueled by malaise, the most youthful of emotions. A baby-faced but already bald-headed CeeLo Light-green (function of fellow Dungeon Family unit crew Goodie Mob) delivers a blistering 29-bar window into the recesses of his mind, carefully pondering the departure between "high" and "as well high." Large Boi extols the virtues of maturation and manhood, while Big Gipp (another Goodie representative) plays the song's resident working human, detailing his corner-boy morning routine. And then in that location's André, dripping with righteous nihilism while pondering the value of his vote ("Ain't nobody Black running but crackers, and so, why I got to annals?"). Each section of the rails is brutally contemplative, equal parts angry and unsure. In combination, "Git Up, Git Out" strikes the balance betwixt preachy and unbelievable. You could say the very aforementioned thing virtually the figures backside information technology. —Pryor

21. "Regal Affluent" (Non-album single, 2008)

1 of the great tragedies of 2000s hip-hop is that nosotros never got a solo André record—or at least i where he was truly rapping. For a menstruation that stretches roughly from 2007 to 2013, 3 Stacks blessed a long list of other artists' records, twisting syllables and dropping gems in a way that surpassed even some of his best Outkast verses. At that place was, of course, his unimpeachable "Int'50 Players Canticle" poesy, merely besides his turns on the "Walk It Out" remix, and Drake'south "The Existent Her," and Jeezy's "I Practise," and Rick Ross's "Sixteen," and, well, I could practice this all day.

At the offset of this run, Dre dropped the most surprising collab: "Royal Affluent," a reunion with Big Boi, featuring Wu-Tang's Raekwon. The other ii fought against the current of the track's fidgety bass line and howdy-lid. Dre, on the other manus, bends the track to his will, rhyming "car door" with "bottle" and ending on an extended metaphor that compares the hokey-pokey to the drug game—and you're going to take to trust me on this, but information technology sounds amazing. The line that always sticks with me, however, comes in the front half of his ane:forty-long verse: "It's easier to run the street than walk in the sand." For André, dropping a solo rap LP would've been the easy office. He chose to walk in the sand, and we all still followed. —Sayles

twenty. "Reddish Velvet" (Stankonia, 2000)

I've long causeless that there was some critical malfunction at the CD manufacturing plant that resulted in hundreds of thousands of consumers receiving Stankonia copies without "Red Velvet," which thus resulted in the perennial arguments about Large Boi existence a 2d-rate rapper compared to André 3000. I can't imagine listening to "Crimson Velvet" and yet cultivating such weak-donkey opinions. I'd be mortified. So, I presume it'southward all a big misunderstanding. —Charity

nineteen. "Crumblin' Erb" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

God Bless Organized Noize kingpin Sleepy Brown, genius producer, songwriter, bald-headed way icon, and sweetly crooning hook machine, who turns this crucial Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik deep cutting into the near serene and profound weed jam imaginable. "In that location's only so much time left in this crazy world," he purrs, doubled by slinky jazz guitar and sounding so laid-back he'south horizontal, he'southward floating in midair upside down. "Crumblin' Erb" is a song most street violence (Big Boi: "And drive-bys, kiss yo' ass bye-farewell, sayonara suckers / I flipped the script and turned the page, ain't scared of you motherfuckers") and the platonic way to reduce information technology (André 3000: "We is gonna smoke out until we choke out"). But Sleepy Brown's stupendously chill chorus (love the whispered "Information technology's the primary programme!") is all yous really need to know most both the trouble and the solution. Fifty-fifty through the, uh, haze, the path to enlightenment has never been clearer. —Harvilla

Outkast at The 1999 Source Hip-Hop Music Awards. — Outkast at the 1999 Source Hip-Hop Music Awards.

18. "Chonkyfire" (Aquemini, 1998)

The final track to an iconic Outkast album that legitimizes their place in rap while showing a glimpse into their out-of-this-world future. As André 3000 aptly stated in this vocal,"You are now about inbound the fifth dimension of ascent." This vocal truly isn't from this planet and it's evident from the gritty guitar riffs that immediately hit your ear, and 3 Stacks' intro:

"Woo, woo Yosky-wosky, peesky-weesky, What'cha wanna practice-ski?"

Outkast makes information technology clear that what yous're hearing is alien-like, and that sound would extend to their critically acclaimed follow-upwards album, Stankonia. "Chonkyfire" is timeless—not simply for its production, which has been sampled by both Eminem and Child Cudi, merely because of the statement it makes. The hook is basically saying that just like the Pied Piper, Outkast's music brought people out of their hiding places, taking off the masks and allowing them to be their true selves. Outkast is nothing like what you've always heard and the fact that they ended the song with their speech from the infamous '95 Source Awards proves that they actually had something to say. —Sean Yoo

17. "Two Dope Boyz (In a Cadillac)" (ATLiens, 1996)

An efficiently entertaining principal class from two of the dopest MCs ever. The vocal begins past sampling the robotic line from the intro of "D.E.E.P." off their first album, and what follows is a perfect back-and-forth from André 3000 and Big Boi. The production is loud and bright with a snare that hits deep inside your soul. Outkast thrives when the juxtaposition of Big Boi and 3K is put on display and Two Dope Boyz does that perfectly in under 3 minutes. Inside the claw, the line, "Simply in the middle we stay calm, nosotros just drop bombs" references their treacherous environs, and how they sit in the heart and just write rhymes. That'southward clearly evident in this track, and it also encompasses the trajectory of the rest of their immaculate career. —Yoo

sixteen. "Morris Dark-brown" (Idlewild, 2006)

Maximalism is, plainly, dorsum, which means that maybe in that location's even so hope that "Morris Brown" volition 1 day go the respect it deserves. This vocal, which was released on 2006'south bittersweet blowout Idlewild but had been originally produced years before that, is a sonic mosaic and an extended musical universe unto itself, even if it somehow never climbed above 95th on the Hot 100 and never made the rap charts at all.

Information technology boasts an entire in one case-semi-famous collegiate marching ring, thumping similar the heart the lyrics draw; and guest vocals from Scar and Sleepy Dark-brown; AND an appearance from Janelle Monáe in what was substantially her debut; A N D a music video that looks like a glorious, trippy amalgam of "Black Hole Dominicus," "Don't Come Around Here No More," and Blueish's Clues. This song is, equally they say, a lot—but then again, isn't life? —Baker

15. "Hey Ya!" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

Grand, C, D, E—the 4 chords that brand upward "Hey Ya!"; also the first iv chords André 3000 learned to play on guitar.

"Hey Ya!" is an anomaly. Virtually 2 decades afterwards its release, information technology still barely makes sense—an upbeat, audio-visual guitar-led, '60s-evoking pop song made by one one-half of an iconic rap duo from Atlanta, about freaking divorce. Undeniably tricky, cleverly subversive, and unexpectedly profound, it asks what keeps people together—and it also asks "all Beyoncés and Lucy Lius" to get on the floor. It confirms that the only thing cooler than being absurd is Ice Common cold. It reinvigorates involvement in the Polaroid camera. It builds a stage on which André plays eight different Beatles-like musicians. It gets in your caput and your bones and never leaves.

Is information technology somewhat of a stomach-churning injustice that Outkast's most well-known song barely resembles the rest of their itemize, let alone their best piece of work? Probably. But at the aforementioned time, all of the things that brand Outkast swell—stunning creativity, the rejection of genre boundaries, and a unique knack for careful, perceptive thinking—are nowadays in "Hey Ya!" So shake it. —Gruttadaro

14. "Aquemini" (Aquemini, 1998)

"The South got something to say": in hindsight, André'due south voice communication at the 1995 Source Awards in Manhattan pits Outkast confronting New York. "New York–wannabe-ism," Killer Mike recalls. Merely let'due south non forget the other regional coup: Outkast making ameliorate Dr. Dre albums than Dr. Dre could manage afterwards The Chronic. "The hardest shit since MC Ren," André notes. Musically, Aquemini draws so much life force from and so many unlike galaxies. On the titular single, Big Boi explicates the anthology and, for that matter, the group: "We prayed together through hard times, swung hard when it was fitting / But now nosotros tapping the brakes from all them corners that we be bending." —Charity

The Tonight Show with Jay Leno-Outkast — Outkast on *The This night Show With Jay Leno* in early 2002.

thirteen. "GhettoMusick" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

If Outkast's chief goal was to differentiate themselves from the rest of hip-hop, and then "GhettoMusick" is something of a manifesto. The vocal is a bout de force of instrumentation, soul, and lyrics. From André's chorus to the Patti LaBelle sample, the track serves as a grand introduction to the grouping'southward most aggressive projects, the double solo album Speakerboxxx/The Beloved Below. Over a four-minute stretch, Big Boi sets the André-produced trounce ablaze. It was another prime number example that the group that never followed the rules invented some new ones themselves. —Murdock

12. "Roses" (Speakerboxxx/The Dearest Below, 2003)

Absolutely stupendous karaoke vocal. The insidious robo-funk bounce. The joyous call-and-response dirge of Caroline! The silly sing-along profundity of that chorus. ("Roses really smell similar poo-poo-ooh!") And especially the meter-smashing way André 3000 barrels through the 2d verse: "I hope she's speedin' on the way to the club tryna hurry up to become to a baller or singer or somebody like that and try to put on her makeup in the mirror and crash, crash, craaaaaash into a ditch." Harsh. Stupendous. "Roses" is a crucial bridge between Speakerboxxx and The Dear Below (information technology marks Big Boi's simply appearance on the latter), and a top-ten striking despite its flagrant weirdness and, well, harshness: If you practice pull it out at karaoke, just be advised that the outro requires you to repeat the words crazy bitch, like, 500 times. —Harvilla

eleven. "So Fresh, So Clean" (Stankonia, 2000)

The quintessential pre-party canticle. The jam you play just earlier you put on your sauciest fit before the function. The vibes are laid down past Sleepy Dark-brown on the chorus and enhanced by Big Boi and 3 Stacks. The song—Stankonia'southward third and terminal unmarried—was the abstraction of Organized Noize'south Rico Wade, who came up with the iconic melody while in the shower one evening. The following day, he had Sleepy lay down the vocals, which are an interpolation of Joe Simon's "Before the Dark Is Over." Surprisingly, André didn't want to exercise the song initially merely decided to after hearing Big Boi's starting time two verses. As a event, the track becomes a contest between the 2 wordsmiths, with Big Boi using his southern game to lick his SpottieOttieDopaliscious affections like a cadger at the Honeycomb Hideout and André using his Funkadelic aura to bear witness to his queen that "the boy adjacent door's a freak." The result is one of the best tracks in music and the soundtrack to the starting time of a great night. —Murdock

10. "Player's Brawl" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Last February, just before his 78th birthday, George Clinton talked nigh adaptability equally the trick to timelessness. When he was touring I Nation Under a Groove with Funkadelic, they'd reached the brink of exhaustion, having created so many glasses on the road night subsequently night with Dr. Funkenstein and his great, futuristic Mothership. When their single "One Nation" hitting, rather than create a new mythology around it, the group leaned into the theme of accessibility, buying the stock of Ground forces-Navy outlets to fill their wardrobe as they went out on what he chosen the "Anti-Tour," creating way forth the fashion. Showtime the price point of fatigues went up in the surplus stores, and then yous started to see the aforementioned silhouettes in large department stores, co-ordinate to Clinton.

Outkast are often written almost every bit the inheritors of Clinton's particular spirit of subversion, and of his talent for timelessness, for obvious reasons. Their debut single, for instance, was supposed to exist a Christmas song, and was made at least in part out of frustration. Having a nascent pseudo-gangster rap duo guest on a Christmas compilation, in the '90s, no less, was their label'south thought of cross-promotion. How were they gonna become any respect? And yet, if you weren't to lookout the video—if you were to picket the video—that factoid would be pretty easy to forget. They too leaned into accessibility: It'southward similar a dream sequence, where a spindly André and a noticeably immature-in-the-confront Large Boi can take all of their friends together for a well-dressed, multi-course banquet because they're all live, not just because it'south Christmas. They as well created fashion along the way: I even so want that Braves jersey, and I don't even picket baseball game like that.

Shit, let me get the simulated-fur Kangol, too. —Peters

nine. "Da Art of Storytellin' Pt. ane" (Aquemini, 1998)

There is something immensely haunting about "Da Art of Storytellin' (Part 1)"—the synth that croons in the groundwork like the opening to a sci-fi anthology series, the patter of bongos that rattles off every few seconds. The track is exactly what it claims to be: an exhibition in the art of storytelling. Large Boi leads with the ballad of a woman named Suzy Skrew. ("They called her 'Suzy Skrew' because she screwed a lot.") The two have a brief sexual escapade that ends with him giving her "a Lil' Wil CD, and a fuckin' poster." The story is crass, his behavior is admittedly dickish. He gets what he wants considering he wanted it. Terminate of transaction. It's but a story after all. Where Large shows us a snapshot of a solar day in his globe, Dre takes us on a trip through someone else's. "Sasha Thumper," a childhood vanquish, who but wanted to exist "live," just of grade, life got in the manner. He spins a tale about their connection, her life, how he used to promise she would appear at one of their concerts. But and then the hook comes: Sasha died behind a school "with a needle in her arm, baby two months due." Maybe at that place'due south a lesson. Maybe there's not. It'southward just a story afterwards all. —Pryor

viii. "Rosa Parks" (Aquemini, 1998)

Big Boi and André 3000 open the video for "Rosa Parks," the offset unmarried from their brilliant third album, Aquemini, by telling you exactly what they're about to give you. Big Boi opens the talks, calling for very world-bound groundwork. André agrees, then adds that they also need "some space, futuristic-blazon" things, barking that people (or, more specifically, rap in full general) is "scared of that." To which Big Boi responds, "All right then, let's practice both of them." And so that'southward exactly what the fuck they practice. The song feels both familiar and cosmic, and information technology fucking rules. And it's fucking unstoppable. And information technology's fucking perfect. And the whole matter—calling their shot beforehand and so nailing it exactly correctly reminds me a lot of the stories about Michael Jordan telling defenders what he was going to exercise before he'd do information technology and still they had no answer for information technology, no manner to stop it, no manner to fully fix for it, because he was Michael Jordan and nobody else was. —Serrano

7. "Elevators (Me & Y'all)" (ATLiens, 1996)

André 3000's concluding verse on the deep-space eerie and unforgettable first single to 1996's ATLiens is i of best moments in Outkast's whole catalog: He'southward cornered by a starry-eyed old classmate at the mall and bluntly but deftly sketches out how far the grouping's already come ("Elevators" reached a then-record-loftier no. 12 on the Billboard Hot 100) and how far they had left to go (the no. one hits would come later on). "True, I've got more than fans than the boilerplate human," he concedes, "Just not plenty loot to last me / To the end of the week / I live by the beat / Like you lot live check-to-check / If it don't move your feet / And so I don't swallow / So we similar neck-to-neck." The double-time flare-up is thrilling, and the mixture of hubris and humility is enthralling, and it's all delivered with enough whirlwind charisma that everyone knew, even before those no. i hits arrived, that these guys would never go hungry once again. —Harvilla

6. "Int'50 Players Anthem" (UGK's Underground Kingz, 2007)

Technically, this vocal isn't eligible to be included on this list, since it's not an Outkast release, instead coming out on a UGK anthology. Just Outkast was no island—peninsula, maybe—and their connection with another perfectly paired Southern duo was too iconic to leave off. "Int'l Players Anthem" is merely about the end of the line for both duos: Outkast would release only ii more songs together (the keen loosie "Royal Flush" and an unceremonious rail on a DJ Drama compilation anthology) and UGK's Pimp C would dice several months after the song's 2007 release. It serves as a crystallization of both groups at their best: 4 one-of-a-kind men rapping about the wildly different means they love women. Each rapper glitters individually, but they become more fascinating when juxtaposed with each other. It's plumbing equipment, considering the vocal itself is an ode to getting down with the team for those who have been rolling solo. —Sherman

v. "Ms. Jackson" (Stankonia, 2000)

"I apologize a trillion times," concludes the pop-supernova chorus to Outkast's first no. i hit, but what makes "Ms. Jackson" so thrilling is how agitated and wounded and combative that amends can be. Inspired in office by André's fraught romance with Erykah Badu (and his consequently chilly human relationship with her mother), the bulletproof Stankonia smash swings wildly from his wistful vulnerability ("Forever? For-e'er-e'er? For-ever-ever?") to Big Boi'south advised defiance, echoing one of Badu's biggest hits in his climactic verse that hits like a ton of bricks ("Y'all proceed on singin' the same song / Permit bygones be bygones, and you can go on and go the hell on / You lot and your mama") fifty-fifty if you've heard this song a trillion times. Permit it be known that Badu says her female parent admittedly loved it: "How did my mama feel? Baby, she bought herself a 'Ms. Jackson' license plate. She had the mug, she had the ink pen, she had the headband, everything. That's who loved information technology." Let information technology also be known that it inspired ane of the best tweets of all time.

I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (Oooooo)/ I am 4 eels/ Never meant to make your daughter cry/ I am several fish and non a guy
— joshh O))) (@JNalv) February 20, 2013

—Harvilla

André 3000 and Big Boi of Outkast at the 2016 ONE Musicfest in Atlanta, Georgia. — Outkast at the 2016 1 Musicfest in Atlanta, Georgia.

4. "Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

A thing that has been lost during all of this Outkast talk is how deliberate and intentional the group e'er seemed to be, even in their earliest days, which is the surest sign of their genius. Considering call up on it similar this: Of form their offset album was going to have a title (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik) that only they could get away with. (Information technology'due south one of those titles where yous see information technology and you say to yourself, "OK, that'south silly," only and so you plough the album on and y'all hear it and yous become, "All right, actually information technology'south perfect.") And of grade they'd have a song on that anthology with the same proper name, and that song would be lush and soulful and contemporary in a fashion that felt like throwing the ball to where a receiver was going and not where he was standing. And of course they'd somewhen release information technology as a unmarried, except they'd make certain to non make it the commencement single, because that's what everybody else would've washed, and Outkast is not everybody else. Because they're Outkast. They're motherfucking Outkast. —Serrano

3. "ATLiens" (ATLiens, 1996)

So much of Outkast's mythos, from the namesake of the group to their sophomore album, is based in concrete and more meta geography. "The ATL for Atlanta, and the aliens for our status as foreigners in the hip-hop game," André told the Los Angeles Times in 1996. "Atlanta was ane of the last places to go out of slavery, so that striving and sense of struggle comes across immediately in our music." Xx-four years after, "ATLiens" feels like a rough blueprint of what would one day make Outkast's hometown hip-hop's creative epicenter. For most four minutes, the larger-than-life characteristics of André and Big Boi begin to course. André'south articulate-eyed and sober manifestations clash with Big'due south increasingly entertaining slick talk. One moment, Big Boi is comparing his rapping skills to a "polar comport's toenails," while André is pondering the future of the homo race. The pitched-upwardly and pinched vocals of the hook sound otherworldly as the duo curves a simple phrase like "Oh yeah" into "Oh-yea-yer." For all of its laid-back free energy, "ATLiens" is indebted to the rage of outsiders. —Holmes

2. "SpottieOttieDopaliscious" (Aquemini, 1998)

"SpottieOttieDopaliscious" is the clearest hint that Outkast hails from a state with excellent marching bands. Although, as far every bit I can tell, Outkast invented marching bands in the first place. I played three dissimilar saxophones and wrote arrangements from hip-hop radio in loftier school, and so I'm speaking from experience here. Outkast makes its biggest, hottest melodies sound so effortless, so cool. —Charity

i. "B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad)" (Stankonia, 2000)

By this point, you're either nodding your head or shaking it, and truthfully, either reaction is completely justifiable. Outkast's catalog contains multitudes—Stankonia's Afrofuturism sounds nada like Aquemini's mystical Southern drawl, which sounds zip like the space-age nail-bap of ATLiens or the Cadillac-torso-rattling bass of their debut. Yous're allowed your preference, and if you choose "Player's Brawl" or "SpottieOttieDopaliscious" as your platonic ideal of an Outkast vocal, y'all're not incorrect. In fact, there are some solid arguments against "B.O.B." as the best 'Kast song: It lacks the finesse of much of their best work; it tries to do a lot; information technology's not even close to their biggest hit; if you remove André and Large Boi'due south vocals, it's non even a rap song. It also briefly served equally a war cry for the most unjust war this country has always waged, in the aforementioned mode that "Built-in in the U.S.A." is an anthem at Republican rallies. Possibly a song that leaves that much room for misinterpretation shouldn't be in the running for the all-time song from one of the best rap groups of all time.

The argument for "B.O.B." at no. 1, nevertheless, is a unproblematic one: It'southward proof of concept for the Outkast experience, the song Big Boi and André were building to from the moment they met as teenagers while both window-shopping outside of a Ralph Lauren store. Starting with Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, when they presented themselves to the globe as conscious pimps, the duo made articulate they wanted to interruption the mold. Much has been said about Dre'due south "The South Got Somethin' to Say" moment at the 1995 Source Awards, but little attending is paid to the purple dashiki he wore as he issued his rebel yell. They were never typical cats, so it makes sense they would craft singular songs.

The arroyo gained them a lot of fans; at times, information technology also lost them some. They would satirize this on an Aquemini sketch, when a onetime fan tells a tape shop owner, "At start they were some pimps, man, but then they some aliens, or some genies or some shit. … Human, whatever. I ain't fuckin' with that no mo'." But even if they felt it, it didn't deter them. If anything they doubled down, and that's where "B.O.B." comes in.

Big Boi remembers the commencement fourth dimension he heard André messing around with the skeleton of the song. His partner called him into the studio and hitting play on the sampler. "Information technology'southward like the room started glowing. I was like, 'Man, what the fuck are you lot doing dorsum hither?'" The answer was André was charting a new course for both the group and 21st-century music. It's hard to think now how rigid genre divides were in the '90s, and that'due south because of Outkast. In no small function, it's considering Big Boi and André crafted a song that combined hip-hop, rock, gospel, and pulsate 'due north' bass. "B.O.B." is explosive; at 155 beats per minute, information technology's faster than practically any rap vocal you'd always heard to that point, and information technology feels even faster—a runaway freight train, except your conductors are either dressed like Jimi Hendrix or wearing Mitchell & Ness. It's amazing this was birthed on a traditional digital sampler like the SP-1200, and not, say, the console of a space shuttle.

The song broke barriers and challenged what constituted hip-hop music. Sure, others had experimented with the course before, but never like this. Shortly afterwards its release, rap and R&B became more adventurous, and soon pop followed. We talk nigh genreless music a lot today. My guess is nosotros'd do a lot less of that without "B.O.B." Only beyond the experimentation, the influence, the glowing studio room of it all, "B.O.B." is an excellent song. Information technology'due south pure adrenaline and maximalism. It's ridiculous plenty to include a full choir and goddamn guitar solo, but great enough to pull them off. It's power music that thunder pounds like a meg elephants. In short, information technology's Outkast doing the absolute nearly, and nosotros couldn't ask for anything more. —Sayles

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Source: https://www.theringer.com/music/2020/10/29/21538412/best-outkast-songs-ranked