Andre 3000 Time and Time Again

The first proper name that teenaged André Benjamin and Antwan Patton settled on for their rap group was 2 Shades Deep, a fine proper name except that in that location was some other coiffure in Atlanta that went by 4 Shades Deep, and even if there was no copyright involved, in that location was a rule confronting biting. The second proper noun the ii chose was Misfits. In that case, in that location was a copyright involved, and if André and Antwan had never heard of Glenn & Co., they knew it was all-time to stay away. Just they identified with the sentiment behind the proper name: "We didn't desire to be compared to anybody," Antwan says in Roni Sarig's 2007 volume about Southern hip-hop, The Third Coast. "We wanted our name to mean 'apart from the norm.'" So they pulled out a thesaurus, found a word similar to "misfits" and made a slight tweak to the spelling, and just similar that Outkast was born.

That moment came nearly thirty years agone, when the artists who would become André 3000 and Large Boi were simply a pair of wide-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 classic albums—each more adventurous than the terminal—and sold 10 million copies of their 5th. 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 Coast purists a Southern grouping to latch onto. They went to the underground, and and then to outer infinite, and so back to Atlanta. Ane started dressing differently. The other started breeding pit bulls. And together they inverse the sound of popular music in the process.

On Saturday, Outkast'southward seminal fourth, Stankonia, turns 20. It'south not their best album (that'south Aquemini) and it's not the i that fabricated them household names your mom would recognize (that'due south the one with "Hey Ya!"), but it is their most daring, influential effort. Yous can read about the album's legacy—and how it planted the seeds for the group'due south dissolution—elsewhere on The Ringer today. Hither, we want to celebrate the all-time songs in the Outkast discography (aye, we fifty-fifty accounted for the solo songs recorded for Speakerboxxx/The Dear Beneath). L of them to be exact. Information technology includes all the hits and classics you've come to love, plus the deep album cuts and B-sides that show off their versatility. (And in 1 extraordinary case, it includes a Dre and Big Boi guest spot that's also iconic not to account for.) Through it all, a theme emerges: André and Big Boi may have been ane of the most pop and respected hip-hop groups of all fourth dimension, only they accomplished those things their own way. True to their name, they were outcasts, even if they gave the world no choice but to embrace them. —Justin Sayles

50. "Gangsta Shit" (Stankonia, 2000)

The best Outkast songs sound like how I imagine their weekends look. There were bigger songs like that on Stankonia, like "So Fresh, So Make clean," "B.O.B.," and "Ms. Jackson"—I wasn't ten years old when the album came out, but can conspicuously recall football pads paired with vaquero chaps, Sleepy Dark-brown in a fur coat, and nodding house pets. "Gangsta Shit," buried twenty songs into the album, isn't as flashy or iconic, but is just equally adventurous, managing to do that Stankonia thing where information technology'south incredibly decorated with diverse sound—guitars, drums, synths, whinier synths, layered vocals—but not claustrophobic. And then crazy that it works. —Micah Peters

49. "Myintrotoletuknow" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

As the first real song off the first Outkast anthology—and 1 with the discussion intro in the title—"Myintrotoletuknow" is worth dissecting to run into what Large Boi and André were trying to tell u.s.. And what jumps out immediately is their paranoia nearly the present: "Time and time again see I exist thinking near that future," Big Boi opens the first verse; "Time is slipping, slowly but surely," Dre opens his. They were just xix years erstwhile, fresh out of loftier school and just commencement their recording career. They should've been excited, perchance a little boastful. Instead, they were already wary, eager to become to the next phase. Looking back, it seems obvious that the nearly forward-thinking rap group of all time would've been focused on the futurity since their inception. But when they chosen their shot in 1994, they didn't know what that hereafter held, merely that they needed to get there. —Sayles

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

Like many other Outkast songs, the indisputable grooviness of "Wheelz of Steel"—which emanates from the Focus III–sampled vanquish, infectious hook, and unfaltering flows—can easily engulf Large Boi and André'southward wisdom. 1 moment I'm nodding my caput and listening to Big Boi tell a brusk story about how he'll never go caught lacking again, so all of sudden André 3000 is running through walls in my brain similar the Juggernaut talking about cod liver oil and the Illuminati. Only there isn't even the slightest sign of turbulence as the two merchandise verses. And merely equally my encephalon starts to fry from André opening my 3rd eye, the hook and scratches courtesy of Mr. DJ come in and my feet starting time moving equally my mind goes numb again. —Jonathan Kermah

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

ATLiens is an anthology nearly a group on the ascension, and "13th Flooring/Growing Quondam," the album's concluding rail, shows the responsibleness that comes with ascent. Dre speaks on the group's mortality while Big Boi criticizes hip-hop's growing infatuation with capitalism. "I'm speaking 'bout you playing with that phony stuff you sharing," the latter raps. "In your raps Mercedes-Benz and all your riches." In total, it'southward the exclamation point on an anthology that put the rest of the world on observe that this group and this region had a voice in music, all the while explaining that information technology comes at an emotional price. —Logan Murdock

46. "The Whole Globe" (Big Boi & Dre Present … Outkast, 2001)

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

And however the song's message is somehow even darker and more existential than all of these details let on. It characterizes the extractive relationship between artist and audition in kinda horror-motion-picture show terms. Can't yous just imagine a Blumhouse poster with the words "The whole earth loves it when you sing the blues" and no farther context haunting the balance of your day? Apologies if it already is. —Katie Bakery

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

The Speakerboxxx appreciator has logged on. You can view Outkast's 2nd-to-concluding album as the showtime of the breakup of one of the almost bright duos of all time—or as the offset of Big Boi'due south exceptional solo career. On "The Rooster," Big Boi talks about a different uncoupling—the cease of marriage—and doesn't sound quite set to go solo with regard to parenting. He shines, rapping over a million horns, and gets to do information technology for only about a whole album. —Rodger Sherman

44. "Mainstream" (ATLiens, 1996)

Outkast accomplished enormous acclamation during the mid-1990s with their debut, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. But as ATLiens' "Mainstream" suggests, "everything ain't always peaches and cream," specially when one is on the ascent. The T-Mo-and–Khujo-assisted rail's championship is a play on words about the struggles of fame and the dope game. To understand the subject area matter is to empathise Outkast in 1996. They were coming off a successful anthology, and they had the fame. Merely they as well had the burden of carrying a region not still primed to run music and the reputation that they've ascended past their childhood peers back habitation. "Mainstream" pushes dorsum on the notion, showing that no affair how far Dre and Big Boi get, they're withal two dudes from the A. —Murdock

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

For a long time, Killer Mike was difficult to pin down. He was a petty crunk, a little Memphis, a niggling Ludacris: he had all these phases. But 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, essentially, Run the Jewels begins with "Snappin and Trappin'." —Justin Charity

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

In 1996, Outkast was but two dope boys in a Cadillac. Somewhere along the line, André pursued other forms of transportation, simply in this preposterously funky song off of Speakerboxxx, Large Boi asserts that nosotros can yet call him the gangsta mack in a Cadillac. On "Bowtie," Big Boi identifies himself as Lucious Left Foot and collaborates with Sleepy Brown, who's credited equally a featured artist for the showtime time afterward years of providing some of Outkast's more than iconic hooks. Antwan is polish every bit a babe's bottom rapping—and briefly singing—virtually putting on (and taking off) clothes culled from a variety of species of expressionless animals. As it turns out, he's got a slightly unlike vision of seduction than the one André sings about on The Love Below. —Sherman

41. "Slump" (Aquemini, 1998)

From the opening baby wail it's pretty clear that this song is about grinding. If "Due west Savannah" is Big Boi's firstborn, dedicated to his roots "way before" he "started rapping," "Slump" is his second child, written in honor of the hustle he knows all too well. With two features from Dungeon Family kin Backbone and Absurd Breeze, the track is a reformulation of the age-sometime 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'm strictly stressin' dirty muddied," Courage chants, "Gon' represent information technology to the T-top / Built-in and bred up on the street top / Get to the money and the sweet spot / And forever hollerin' 'Hootie Hoo!' when we see cops." With 3 Stacks taking this rails off, Big Boi lives up to his primary billing, fluttering upwardly and down the beat with the dexterity of a hummingbird. "Cops and robbers, niggas be spring to get them dollars and cents," he sermonizes, "They get in a slump like baseball players when they short on they rent." Fifty-fifty if "Slump" recognizes that the game is rigged, it reminds listeners that some folks still have to play it. —Lex Pryor

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

If y'all want me to add your song to my playlist of saved jawns, throw in a trounce modify-upwardly. It's like watching a switch hitter slug a Hour from each side of the plate, if done effectively. It's surprising and not in the oh-shit-that-ghost-popped-out-of-that-lady'due south-soul kind of way. "State of war" begins with a call to action from Big Boi on the general land of diplomacy in America. Then Screechy Peach interrupts to remind us that something beyond our command will imminently accident up correct in our unassuming faces. It's only a affair of fourth dimension. And finally, boom goes the injustice. The media has shucked and jived, politicians are modern-twenty-four hours magicians, and state of war is ever followed by horror and sorrow. When the vanquish changes, so does Big Boi's sense of urgency. All he wants is for the population to odour the damn Folgers, and never forget that when Antwan André Patton brings food for thought to the table, yous swallow! —Keith Fujimoto

Outkast performs in Heaton Park, Manchester, in 2001.

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

Ane of the funniest things that happens in a rap vocal is when the rapping ceases to be athletic, or spirited, and just begins to audio … kind of angry, like a scolding. "Nosotros Luv Deez Hoez" is an embarrassing song that anile poorly, but I laugh every time I become to the end of Big Boi'south beginning poesy:

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

Partly considering it'due south fun to imagine a story involving Cheesecake Factory and strawberry lemonade that could piece of work Large Boi up this much, but also considering this is ane of the few Outkast songs that André isn't on pre-Speakerboxx, which, in some small-scale way, means that he couldn't avow it. —Peters

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

Coming hard out of the Dungeon of Organized Noize, the 1994 runway "Ain't No Thang" is a statement piece. That statement: Tuck it in, everyone else—Outkast is here. Considering of everything from The Love Below to "Lucious Left Foot" to André 3000's Anita Baker article of clothing line, information technology'southward sometimes hard to remember that Outkast was once just a couple of precocious teenagers navigating the streets of East Indicate, Georgia. "Ain't No Thang" is now a reminder. Over an urgent, face-bashing beat—that screech was lifted from a few seconds buried in Miles Davis's "Sivad"—both André and Big Boi go 2-for-two on verses dripping in aggression, confidence, and wordplay. It'due south gangsta rap for the South. Information technology's an arrival. Information technology's an annunciation. Forget New York; forget 50.A.; ATL won this twenty-four hours. —Andrew Gruttadaro

37. "Mighty O" (Idlewild, 2006)

If Idlewild—the musical film that birthed Outkast's concluding-anthology soundtrack of the aforementioned name—was the group's symbolic death, so "Mighty O" represents its defiant last gasp of air. Backed by a sample of Cab Calloway's "Minnie the Moocher," André and Big Boi came together for ane concluding alchemic feat equally a musical group.

Betwixt 2006 and 2007, André was employing a scorched-earth policy, dominating on every rap verse he delivered. His appearances on UNK's "Walk It Out," Rich Boy'due south "Throw Some D'southward" and UGK'southward "International Players Anthem (I Cull You lot)" were etched into legendary stone the minute they hit the airwaves. It was a decade removed from André's prediction that the South would transform into a disquisitional 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 one point in "Mighty O," he invites every person in the media to "a double diamond party in the North Pole," which speedily becomes a tournament where anybody has to pretend to exist André 3000. The goad for this antagonistic tournament, you ask? Well, 3000 was perturbed that no 1 liked his sartorial choices.

To Big Boi's credit, he backs upward his partner past comparing Outkast'southward detractors to Rumpelstiltskin and so throws in a bar about a Dan Dark-brown novel. In summation, the Atlanta group left the game every bit it had entered it—the all-time. —Charles Holmes

36. "She Lives in My Lap" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

In 2003, The Dearest Beneath was the toast of critics. In 2020, it's mainly remembered equally a poor man'due south Prince anthology with a few massive singles. But in that location are worthy tracks across "Roses" and "Hey Ya!": "Prototype" is a perfect song about a wounded person rediscovering love; "Spread" is frighteningly sexy; "Take Off Your Cool" certainly plays like Grammy bait, but it sure sounds good. But the best moment on The Beloved Below is "She Lives in My Lap," André's reply to the Purple Ane'south "She'due south Always in My Hair." With Rosario Dawson riding shotgun, Dre unspools a messy tale of friends with benefits that have the potential for more. The beat matches the cluttered free energy, with phantom snares and a haunting synth line that rattles in your head. Possibly we should think the album more for songs like this. —Sayles

35. "Babylon" (ATLiens, 1996)

I came into this world high as a bird from second-mitt cocaine powder
I know it sounds absurd, I never tooted just it'due south in my veins
While the balance of the country bungies off bridges without no snap back
And bitches they say they need that to shake they fannies in the ass clubs

André's opening lines to "Babylon," the key song in the introspective eye portion of 1996'southward ATLiens, are arresting. In four lines, he paints a picture of the difference between selection vs. nature, drug tourism vs. growing upward in that globe. By the time of the album's release, Dre had sworn off drugs and booze. So his verse on "Babylon" may come across equally a tad preachy. But ultimately information technology came from a place of worry—for both society and, crucially, himself. —Sayles

34. "West Savannah" (Aquemini, 1998)

1 of the cuts that didn't make information technology on the Atlanta duo'south debut album, "Westward Savannah" was thrown onto Aquemini equally a bonus, according to Big Boi in a 2010 oral history on the Southern rap archetype. The four-minute track feels like you're sitting backseat on a driving tour of West Savannah, Georgia, with Big Boi at the wheel and Sleepy Brown riding shotgun. A native of Savannah, Big Boi raps about growing up in his hometown, his family, and life in the streets of the Westside projects. The solo cut is a painting of Big Boi's roots and origin story, and is i of dozens of examples of Outkast's masterful storytelling. Fittingly, when the tour rolls to a stop, it transitions into another lesson on the "Da Art of Storytellin' (Function I)." —Daniel Chin

33. "Da Art of Storytellin' Pt. 2" (Aquemini, 1998)

It's no wonder that the entries to this serial of lyrical explorations would lead to moody edits on YouTube with animated action cartoons—"Da Art of Storytellin'" falls into a subcategory, forth 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 you woke up, looked out the window, and saw the sky falling. If you turned over, would the person you saw be someone you could truly spend the apocalypse with? Could you practise it alone? —Peters

32. "Benz or Beamer" (New Bailiwick of jersey Drive, Vol. 1, 1995)

In this Southernplayalistic B-side that made its manner onto the legendary New Bailiwick of jersey Drive soundtrack, Outkast momentarily betrayed their loyalty to Sevilles and El Dorados and declared, plainly, "Either want a Benz or a Beamer." With a track that sounds this good, the fine folks at Cadillac likely had a hard time feeling hurt. —Sayles

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

31. "Hootie Hoo" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Amid all the humid, luxuriant funk of Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, what strikes yous first most "Hootie Hoo" is how chilly and stark and ominous it is: a menacingly minimalist bass line, a pristine drum break from Black Sabbath'due south "Behind the Wall of Sleep," and a childlike falsetto chant (Hootie hoo!) that blows a fragrant puff of weed smoke into the room with every repetition. It's elementary, but extravagantly simple. "Tight like hallways / Smoked out always," goes the refrain, and lyrically that's all the song really needs. But André 3000'due south vividly crass verse well-nigh Saturday-nighttime hedonism and its consequences ("Now playing these bitches is my favorite sport / But own't no game when they be calling your proper noun in the court") is startling long before a girl calls him two weeks afterwards with some unwelcome news, and his phone goes click, and the whole track, for just one breathtaking half second, goes silent. Information technology's the coldest moment on one of Outkast's most gloriously frigid songs. —Rob Harvilla

thirty. "Humble Grumble" (Stankonia, 2000)

André's verse on "Ms. Jackson," the massive hit single from Stankonia, dealt with his relationship with Erykah Badu, the ex whom he had a son with. The verse is tender and acknowledges that sometimes beloved doesn't work out. Merely nothing in information technology would've led you to believe that Badu would show up anywhere about the album. And so it was shocking when she appeared as a guest—and on one of Stankonia'south 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. So, halfway through, the beat drops. It'due south not an aggressive drop, only it'southward explosive, immediately transforming the track from a head nodder to an ass shaker. But fifty-fifty with the bass and drums, the main attraction remains the quondam lovers, who were absurd enough to set aside whatever drama there may have been for a special moment. (Bonus track: The two shared an equally as groovy collaboration in 2015 on Badu'southward "Hello," the sweet closer to her criminally overlooked But Yous Caint Utilize My Phone.) —Sayles

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

This was a alarm to all the punk motherfuckers: If you effort to get a piece of mine, I gotta grab my piece. Cocky-defense is the but defense confronting the defamation of one'south self-expression from said punk motherfuckers. Thanks to the gossip, nosotros got a render to Big Boi's and Dre'southward gangsta selves (and the masterful rhyming of fourth dimension travelin' with rhyme javelin). The instrumental is anthemic—kudos to the syrupy, orchestral vibes—laying the foundation for the duo to nullify any of the asinine side-optics and shade they were getting from their haters/critics. On the hook, the discussion "gangsta" is drawn out like it was the group'south last-resort reminder to everyone that they were gonna relentlessly stick up for everything they worked tirelessly to have and, more importantly, for each other. At that place's two things I learned from multiple listens of this track: Triggered 3000 is similar the MJ "it became personal" meme, and Outkast is not Gild Nouveau. —Fujimoto

28. "Jazzy Belle" (ATLiens, 1996)

"Jazzy Belle" is a fleck of a deep cut off of Outkast'southward sophomore try, ATLiens, simply it showcases André 3000 and Large Boi doing what they do best. Wordplaying the biblical queen Jezebel and "Southern belles," the 2 merchandise bars most relationships and promiscuous women against a smooth beat with no need for whatever chorus. While the original Organized Noize–produced track more than holds its own, DJ Swift C's remix—which features an assist from Babyface—is arguably even better. The song'due south new hook and slowed-downwardly vanquish gives it a more R&B experience, which is better fit for the radio. The remix was released as the final single for the anthology, and its extremely '90s music video is still elite. —Mentum

27. "Liberation" (Aquemini, 1998)

Aquemini's penultimate rail is preceded by "Nathaniel," an interlude that features a real-life collect call that Atlanta rapper Supa Nate made to Big Boi from jail. Nate rapped a cappella over the phone, and Big Boi recorded his verse most life in jail and waiting to get out. The phone call perfectly introduces "Liberation," a nearly nine-minute Dungeon Family unit gathering where André, Big Boi, Cee-Lo, Erykah Badu, and Big Rube have turns singing and speaking of freedom. With elements of jazz, blues, gospel, spoken word, and a somber grand pianoforte behind them, each artist ruminates on what information technology ways to be gratis. It'southward a journey that touches on the anxieties that come up from fame and success, family, religion, the music manufacture, and the Black experience. Over 20 years later information technology was released, the song'southward lyrics and themes still resonate, and information technology remains a standout in Outkast'due south extensive and stylistically diverse catalogue. —Chin

26. "Gasoline Dreams" (Stankonia, 2000)

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

25. "The Mode You Motility" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, 2003)

Technically speaking, "The Fashion You Move" was still office of an Outkast projection, given that information technology'south from the Speakerboxxx/The Love Beneath double anthology that the group released in 2003. Just REALLY, "The Mode Y'all Move" was understood to exist Large Boi's debut every bit a solo artist, similar to how "Hey Ya" was understood to be André 3000'southward debut every bit a solo creative person, which also came from the same double album and had been released a month earlier. And then there'due south ever that tricky history that you have to work your fashion through whenever you're talking well-nigh this song. You have to know that in order to understand the biggest reason why this vocal is peachy, which is that it announced to anybody that if we actually were headed toward an eventual dissolution of Outkast, which was a large rumor during this particular period of fourth dimension, Big Boi, who'd largely been underestimated almost by default because of André 3000's overpowering coolness, was going to exist just fine. And more than that, Big Boi was going to smooth. Which is what he does on "The Way You Move." The rubbery charm of his vocalisation is perfect in the spotlight, and revisiting this song now, information technology'south clear that he aimed to eventually make his own completely solo masterpiece album, a promise he fulfilled with 2010'due south Sir Lucious Left Human foot. —Shea Serrano

24. "Image" (Speakerboxxx/The Love Beneath, 2003)

Outkast had successfully integrated funk into hip-hop long before, but Speakerboxxx/The Dearest Below is the natural conclusion of those efforts, and "Prototype" is possibly the best case of that end point. A slow-churning ballad driven past 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 most Outkast is difficult.) The lyrics' hyperbolic yet grounded approach to love ("Permit'due south get to the movies") is par for the class for André, just let'southward be honest, you're here for the vibes. And that'south what "Paradigm" has in spades. I'k very stankful for that. —Gruttadaro

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

As legendary Wu-Tang member Raekwon tells information technology, earlier this vocal no one in the Due east Coast was listening to any rappers from the South. Simply on "Skew Information technology on the Bar-B," the Chef definitely didn't seem out of his element surrounded by some ATLiens. On the Organized Noize–produced beat out, he flexes his prowess for moving weight, just it'due south André'due south bar warping that perks my ears every fourth dimension: "I'm sorry, like Atari, who's the cousin to Coleco / Vision? Caught a RICO, dorsum on the street like Chico / DeBarge." —Kermah

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

What gets swallowed up in the shadow of their excellence is their historic period. Think about it. Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik drops in the autumn of '94 and Big and Dre are both a whopping ... nineteen years old. So, surrounded by all the posturing bravado and wise-beyond-their-years street knowledge of their debut anthology, there's "Git Up, Git Out," sitting at rails 12, fueled by angst, the most youthful of emotions. A baby-faced but already bald-headed CeeLo Greenish (part of fellow Dungeon Family crew Goodie Mob) delivers a blistering 29-bar window into the recesses of his heed, carefully pondering the difference between "high" and "likewise loftier." Big Boi extols the virtues of maturation and manhood, while Large Gipp (another Goodie representative) plays the vocal'southward resident working man, detailing his corner-boy morning routine. Then there'southward André, dripping with righteous nihilism while pondering the value of his vote ("Ain't nobody Black running merely crackers, so, why I got to annals?"). Each department of the track is brutally wistful, equal parts aroused and unsure. In combination, "Git Upwards, Git Out" strikes the residual between preachy and unbelievable. Yous could say the very same thing virtually the figures behind it. —Pryor

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

One of the slap-up tragedies of 2000s hip-hop is that nosotros never got a solo André record—or at to the lowest degree one where he was truly rapping. For a menses that stretches roughly from 2007 to 2013, 3 Stacks blessed a long list of other artists' records, twisting syllables and dropping gems in a style that surpassed even some of his best Outkast verses. At that place was, of course, his unimpeachable "Int'fifty Players Anthem" verse, but also his turns on the "Walk It Out" remix, and Drake's "The Real Her," and Jeezy's "I Do," and Rick Ross'due south "Sixteen," and, well, I could practice this all day.

At the beginning of this run, Dre dropped the nearly surprising collab: "Regal Affluent," a reunion with Big Boi, featuring Wu-Tang's Raekwon. The other two fought against the electric current of the track's fidgety bass line and hi-chapeau. Dre, on the other hand, bends the track to his will, rhyming "auto door" with "bottle" and catastrophe on an extended metaphor that compares the hokey-pokey to the drug game—and you're going to have to trust me on this, simply it sounds astonishing. The line that always sticks with me, still, comes in the front half of his i:forty-long poesy: "It's easier to run the street than walk in the sand." For André, dropping a solo rap LP would've been the piece of cake part. He chose to walk in the sand, and we all however followed. —Sayles

20. "Cherry Velvet" (Stankonia, 2000)

I've long assumed that in that location was some critical malfunction at the CD factory that resulted in hundreds of thousands of consumers receiving Stankonia copies without "Carmine Velvet," which thus resulted in the perennial arguments well-nigh Big Boi being a second-rate rapper compared to André 3000. I can't imagine listening to "Red Velvet" and yet cultivating such weak-ass opinions. I'd exist mortified. So, I assume it's all a big misunderstanding. —Charity

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

God Bless Organized Noize kingpin Sleepy Brown, genius producer, songwriter, baldheaded-headed way icon, and sweetly crooning hook auto, who turns this crucial Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik deep cut into the most serene and profound weed jam imaginable. "There's merely so much time left in this crazy globe," he purrs, doubled by slinky jazz guitar and sounding so laid-back he's horizontal, he's floating in midair upside down. "Crumblin' Erb" is a song virtually street violence (Big Boi: "And drive-bys, kiss yo' ass bye-good day, sayonara suckers / I flipped the script and turned the page, ain't scared of you motherfuckers") and the ideal fashion to reduce information technology (André 3000: "We is gonna smoke out until nosotros choke out"). Simply Sleepy Dark-brown'southward stupendously arctic chorus (love the whispered "It's the master program!") is all you really need to know about both the problem 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 terminal track to an iconic Outkast album that legitimizes their place in rap while showing a glimpse into their out-of-this-world time to come. Every bit André 3000 aptly stated in this song,"You lot are at present virtually entering the 5th dimension of ascension." This song truly isn't from this planet and it's axiomatic from the gritty guitar riffs that immediately hitting your ear, and 3 Stacks' intro:

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

Outkast makes information technology clear that what you're hearing is alien-like, and that sound would extend to their critically acclaimed follow-upwardly anthology, Stankonia. "Chonkyfire" is timeless—not just for its product, which has been sampled past both Eminem and Kid Cudi, but because of the statement it makes. The hook is basically proverb that simply 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 concluded the song with their speech from the infamous '95 Source Awards proves that they actually had something to say. —Sean Yoo

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

An efficiently entertaining master class from two of the dopest MCs e'er. The song begins past sampling the robotic line from the intro of "D.E.E.P." off their get-go album, and what follows is a perfect back-and-along from André 3000 and Big Boi. The production is loud and bright with a snare that hits deep within your soul. Outkast thrives when the juxtaposition of Big Boi and 3K is put on brandish and 2 Dope Boyz does that perfectly in under three minutes. Within the hook, the line, "Merely in the heart we stay calm, we but driblet bombs" references their treacherous surroundings, and how they sit in the centre and just write rhymes. That'south clearly evident in this track, and it also encompasses the trajectory of the residue of their immaculate career. —Yoo

xvi. "Morris Brown" (Idlewild, 2006)

Maximalism is, apparently, dorsum, which means that maybe there's however hope that "Morris Brown" will one day go the respect it deserves. This vocal, which was released on 2006'south bloodshot blowout Idlewild but had been originally produced years before that, is a sonic mosaic and an extended musical universe unto itself, even if information technology somehow never climbed to a higher place 95th on the Hot 100 and never made the rap charts at all.

It boasts an entire once-semi-famous collegiate marching band, thumping like the middle the lyrics draw; and guest vocals from Scar and Sleepy Chocolate-brown; AND an appearance from Janelle Monáe in what was essentially her debut; A Northward D a music video that looks like a glorious, trippy amalgam of "Black Hole Sun," "Don't Come Effectually Here No More than," and Blueish'southward Clues. This song is, as they say, a lot—simply so again, isn't life? —Baker

fifteen. "Hey Ya!" (Speakerboxxx/The Dearest Below, 2003)

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

"Hey Ya!" is an anomaly. Almost two decades after its release, it still barely makes sense—an upbeat, acoustic guitar-led, '60s-evoking pop song made past 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 information technology likewise asks "all Beyoncés and Lucy Lius" to get on the floor. It confirms that the simply thing cooler than being cool is ICE COLD. It reinvigorates interest in the Polaroid camera. It builds a phase on which André plays eight different Beatles-like musicians. Information technology gets in your head and your bones and never leaves.

Is information technology somewhat of a breadbasket-churning injustice that Outkast'south near well-known song barely resembles the rest of their catalog, let solitary their all-time work? Probably. But at the same time, all of the things that make Outkast great—stunning creativity, the rejection of genre boundaries, and a unique knack for careful, perceptive thinking—are present in "Hey Ya!" So shake information technology. —Gruttadaro

fourteen. "Aquemini" (Aquemini, 1998)

"The South got something to say": in retrospect, André's speech at the 1995 Source Awards in Manhattan pits Outkast against New York. "New York–wannabe-ism," Killer Mike recalls. But let's not forget the other regional insurrection: Outkast making meliorate 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 then many different 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 / Just now we 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.

13. "GhettoMusick" (Speakerboxxx/The Honey Below, 2003)

If Outkast's chief goal was to differentiate themselves from the residue of hip-hop, then "GhettoMusick" is something of a manifesto. The song is a tour de force of instrumentation, soul, and lyrics. From André'south chorus to the Patti LaBelle sample, the track serves as a one thousand introduction to the group's most aggressive projects, the double solo album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. Over a four-minute stretch, Big Boi sets the André-produced beat afire. It was another prime number instance that the group that never followed the rules invented some new ones themselves. —Murdock

12. "Roses" (Speakerboxxx/The Honey Beneath, 2003)

Absolutely stupendous karaoke song. The insidious robo-funk bounce. The joyous call-and-response chant of Caroline! The light-headed sing-along profundity of that chorus. ("Roses actually smell like poo-poo-ooh!") And especially the meter-smashing mode André 3000 barrels through the second verse: "I hope she's speedin' on the mode to the club tryna hurry upwardly to get to a baller or singer or somebody similar 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 Love Below (information technology marks Big Boi's only appearance on the latter), and a height-10 hit despite its flagrant weirdness and, well, harshness: If y'all do pull it out at karaoke, just be advised that the outro requires yous to repeat the words crazy bitch, like, 500 times. —Harvilla

11. "So Fresh, So Make clean" (Stankonia, 2000)

The quintessential pre-political party canticle. The jam you play merely before y'all put on your sauciest fit before the function. The vibes are laid down past Sleepy Chocolate-brown on the chorus and enhanced by Big Boi and 3 Stacks. The vocal—Stankonia's tertiary and final single—was the abstraction of Organized Noize's Rico Wade, who came upward with the iconic tune 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 Night Is Over." Surprisingly, André didn't want to do the song initially merely decided to after hearing Big Boi'southward first two verses. Equally a result, the track becomes a competition between the two wordsmiths, with Large Boi using his southern game to lick his SpottieOttieDopaliscious affections like a lizard at the Honeycomb Hideout and André using his Funkadelic aura to prove to his queen that "the boy next door's a freak." The effect is one of the best tracks in music and the soundtrack to the beginning of a great nighttime. —Murdock

10. "Role player's Ball" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

Concluding February, just before his 78th birthday, George Clinton talked nigh adaptability as the trick to timelessness. When he was touring One Nation Under a Groove with Funkadelic, they'd reached the brink of exhaustion, having created then many spectacles on the road night afterwards night with Dr. Funkenstein and his great, futuristic Mothership. When their single "One Nation" striking, rather than create a new mythology around it, the group leaned into the theme of accessibility, buying the stock of Army-Navy outlets to fill their wardrobe as they went out on what he called the "Anti-Tour," creating fashion along the way. Commencement the cost point of fatigues went upwards in the surplus stores, and then you started to run across the same silhouettes in big department stores, according to Clinton.

Outkast are often written about as the inheritors of Clinton's particular spirit of subversion, and of his talent for timelessness, for obvious reasons. Their debut unmarried, for example, was supposed to be a Christmas song, and was made at to the lowest degree in part out of frustration. Having a nascent pseudo-gangster rap duo guest on a Christmas compilation, in the '90s, no less, was their characterization's idea of cross-promotion. How were they gonna become any respect? And yet, if you lot weren't to picket the video—if you lot were to picket the video—that factoid would exist pretty easy to forget. They likewise leaned into accessibility: It's like a dream sequence, where a spindly André and a noticeably immature-in-the-face Big Boi tin can take all of their friends together for a well-dressed, multi-course banquet considering they're all alive, not just because information technology'due south Christmas. They besides created way along the manner: I still want that Braves jersey, and I don't even watch baseball like that.

Shit, let me get the fake-fur Kangol, as well. —Peters

9. "Da Art of Storytellin' Pt. one" (Aquemini, 1998)

There is something immensely haunting about "Da Art of Storytellin' (Office 1)"—the synth that croons in the background like the opening to a sci-fi anthology serial, the patter of bongos that rattles off every few seconds. The track is exactly what it claims to exist: an exhibition in the art of storytelling. Big Boi leads with the ballad of a woman named Suzy Skrew. ("They called her 'Suzy Skrew' because she screwed a lot.") The 2 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 absolutely dickish. He gets what he wants because he wanted it. End of transaction. It's simply a story afterwards all. Where Big shows the states a snapshot of a day in his world, Dre takes us on a trip through someone else's. "Sasha Thumper," a childhood crush, who just wanted to be "alive," but of course, life got in the style. He spins a tale about their connection, her life, how he used to promise she would announced at one of their concerts. But so the hook comes: Sasha died behind a schoolhouse "with a needle in her arm, baby 2 months due." Maybe in that location's a lesson. Maybe in that location's not. It's just a story afterward all. —Pryor

8. "Rosa Parks" (Aquemini, 1998)

Big Boi and André 3000 open the video for "Rosa Parks," the start unmarried from their vivid tertiary album, Aquemini, past telling you exactly what they're most to give you. Large Boi opens the talks, calling for very earth-bound groundwork. André agrees, then adds that they also need "some space, futuristic-type" things, barking that people (or, more than specifically, rap in full general) is "scared of that." To which Large Boi responds, "All correct and so, permit'south do both of them." And then that's exactly what the fuck they practice. The song feels both familiar and catholic, and it fucking rules. And it'southward fucking unstoppable. And it'southward fucking perfect. And the whole affair—calling their shot beforehand and and so nailing it exactly correctly reminds me a lot of the stories nearly Michael Jordan telling defenders what he was going to do before he'd practise it and however they had no respond for it, no way to stop it, no manner to fully gear up for it, because he was Michael Jordan and nobody else was. —Serrano

7. "Elevators (Me & You)" (ATLiens, 1996)

André 3000'southward concluding poetry on the deep-space eerie and unforgettable first single to 1996'due south ATLiens is one of best moments in Outkast'southward whole itemize: He's cornered by a starry-eyed old classmate at the mall and bluntly but deftly sketches out how far the group's already come ("Elevators" reached a and then-record-high no. 12 on the Billboard Hot 100) and how far they had left to become (the no. 1 hits would come later). "True, I've got more fans than the average man," he concedes, "But not plenty loot to last me / To the finish of the week / I live by the beat out / Like you live check-to-cheque / If information technology don't move your feet / Then I don't eat / So nosotros like cervix-to-cervix." The double-fourth dimension burst is thrilling, and the mixture of hubris and humility is enthralling, and information technology's all delivered with enough whirlwind charisma that everyone knew, fifty-fifty before those no. 1 hits arrived, that these guys would never go hungry again. —Harvilla

half-dozen. "Int'l Players Anthem" (UGK'due south Secret Kingz, 2007)

Technically, this song isn't eligible to be included on this list, since it's not an Outkast release, instead coming out on a UGK album. Simply Outkast was no island—peninsula, maybe—and their connection with another perfectly paired Southern duo was too iconic to leave off. "Int'l Players Canticle" is simply about the end of the line for both duos: Outkast would release merely 2 more than songs together (the swell loosie "Royal Flush" and an unceremonious rails on a DJ Drama compilation album) and UGK's Pimp C would die several months after the vocal's 2007 release. It serves equally a crystallization of both groups at their all-time: four ane-of-a-kind men rapping about the wildly unlike ways they love women. Each rapper glitters individually, but they go more fascinating when juxtaposed with each other. It's fitting, because the song itself is an ode to getting downwardly with the squad for those who take been rolling solo. —Sherman

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

"I apologize a trillion times," concludes the pop-supernova chorus to Outkast's first no. 1 hit, simply what makes "Ms. Jackson" and so thrilling is how agitated and wounded and antagonistic that amends can be. Inspired in part by André'due south 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-ever-ever? For-ever-ever?") to Big Boi's brash defiance, echoing one of Badu'southward biggest hits in his climactic verse that hits similar a ton of bricks ("Yous continue on singin' the same song / Permit bygones exist bygones, and you can keep and get the hell on / Y'all and your mama") even if you've heard this song a trillion times. Let it be known that Badu says her mother absolutely loved it: "How did my mama experience? Infant, she bought herself a 'Ms. Jackson' license plate. She had the mug, she had the ink pen, she had the headband, everything. That'southward who loved it." Let it too be known that it inspired one of the all-time tweets of all time.

I'k sorry Ms. Jackson (Oooooo)/ I am four eels/ Never meant to make your girl cry/ I am several fish and not a guy
— joshh O))) (@JNalv) February twenty, 2013

—Harvilla

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

iv. "Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik" (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1994)

A matter that has been lost during all of this Outkast talk is how deliberate and intentional the group always seemed to be, fifty-fifty in their earliest days, which is the surest sign of their genius. Considering think on it like this: Of class their commencement album was going to take a championship (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik) that only they could become away with. (It's ane of those titles where you see it and you say to yourself, "OK, that's silly," but then you turn the album on and you hear it and you become, "All right, actually it's perfect.") And of course they'd take a song on that anthology with the aforementioned name, and that song would be lush and soulful and gimmicky in a manner that felt like throwing the ball to where a receiver was going and not where he was standing. And of course they'd eventually release it every bit a single, except they'd make certain to not go far the first single, because that's what everybody else would've done, and Outkast is not everybody else. Considering 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 physical and more meta geography. "The ATL for Atlanta, and the aliens for our condition as foreigners in the hip-hop game," André told the Los Angeles Times in 1996. "Atlanta was one of the terminal places to go out of slavery, and so that striving and sense of struggle comes across immediately in our music." Xx-four years afterward, "ATLiens" feels like a rough blueprint of what would ane 24-hour interval brand Outkast'southward hometown hip-hop'due south creative epicenter. For nearly 4 minutes, the larger-than-life characteristics of André and Large Boi begin to course. André'south clear-eyed and sober manifestations clash with Big's increasingly entertaining slick talk. 1 moment, Big Boi is comparing his rapping skills to a "polar bear'south toenails," while André is pondering the future of the human race. The pitched-up and pinched vocals of the claw audio otherworldly as the duo curves a simple phrase like "Oh yes" into "Oh-yea-yer." For all of its laid-back energy, "ATLiens" is indebted to the rage of outsiders. —Holmes

ii. "SpottieOttieDopaliscious" (Aquemini, 1998)

"SpottieOttieDopaliscious" is the clearest hint that Outkast hails from a state with excellent marching bands. Although, as far as I tin tell, Outkast invented marching bands in the first place. I played 3 different saxophones and wrote arrangements from hip-hop radio in high school, so I'm speaking from experience here. Outkast makes its biggest, hottest melodies audio and then effortless, and then cool. —Charity

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

By this point, y'all're either nodding your head or shaking it, and truthfully, either reaction is completely justifiable. Outkast's catalog contains multitudes—Stankonia'south Afrofuturism sounds zilch like Aquemini's mystical Southern drawl, which sounds aught like the space-age boom-bap of ATLiens or the Cadillac-trunk-rattling bass of their debut. You're allowed your preference, and if you choose "Player's Ball" or "SpottieOttieDopaliscious" as your platonic ideal of an Outkast vocal, y'all're not wrong. In fact, at that place are some solid arguments against "B.O.B." as the best 'Kast song: It lacks the finesse of much of their best piece of work; it tries to practise a lot; it's non even close to their biggest hit; if you lot remove André and Big Boi's vocals, information technology's not even a rap song. It as well briefly served equally a state of war cry for the almost unjust war this state has ever waged, in the aforementioned way that "Built-in in the U.s.A." is an canticle at Republican rallies. Perhaps a song that leaves that much room for misinterpretation shouldn't be in the running for the best song from one of the best rap groups of all time.

The argument for "B.O.B." at no. 1, nonetheless, is a simple one: It'due south proof of concept for the Outkast experience, the song Large 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 world as witting pimps, the duo made clear they wanted to break the mold. Much has been said virtually Dre's "The S Got Somethin' to Say" moment at the 1995 Source Awards, but fiddling attention is paid to the majestic dashiki he wore as he issued his rebel yell. They were never typical cats, so information technology makes sense they would craft singular songs.

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

Big Boi remembers the starting time time he heard André messing around with the skeleton of the song. His partner called him into the studio and striking play on the sampler. "It's like the room started glowing. I was like, 'Man, what the fuck are you doing back here?'" The answer was André was charting a new form for both the group and 21st-century music. It's hard to remember at present how rigid genre divides were in the '90s, and that's because of Outkast. In no minor function, information technology's because Big Boi and André crafted a song that combined hip-hop, rock, gospel, and drum 'north' bass. "B.O.B." is explosive; at 155 beats per minute, it'due south faster than practically whatsoever rap vocal you'd ever heard to that signal, and it feels even faster—a runaway freight train, except your conductors are either dressed like Jimi Hendrix or wearing Mitchell & Ness. Information technology's astonishing this was birthed on a traditional digital sampler like the SP-1200, and not, say, the panel of a space shuttle.

The song broke barriers and challenged what constituted hip-hop music. Sure, others had experimented with the form before, but never like this. Shortly after its release, rap and R&B became more than adventurous, and shortly pop followed. We talk nigh genreless music a lot today. My guess is we'd exercise a lot less of that without "B.O.B." But beyond the experimentation, the influence, the glowing studio room of it all, "B.O.B." is an excellent vocal. Information technology's pure adrenaline and maximalism. It's ridiculous plenty to include a full choir and goddamn guitar solo, just keen plenty to pull them off. Information technology's power music that thunder pounds like a meg elephants. In brusque, it's Outkast doing the absolute most, and we 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