It's almost impossible to believe that this song is now 12 years old--and it nearly brings tears to my eyes remembering that just two weeks ago I sold my ultra-heavyweight vinyl copy of Outkast's seminal album, ATLiens ... all about the CREAM, indeed.

ATLiens was indeed one of Kast's greatest, and though it can certainly stand alone as a brilliant album, I think it is best appreciated in the context of 1998's Aquemini. Those two discs are Outkast at their finest, before Andre decided to bury his one-of-a-kind flow in some hidden Atlanta graveyard, and when Big Boi was really letting his slang run wild.

The two CDs are in my eyes a double disc: I cannot give either a higher grade, as both are genius, framing similar thematic ideas (poverty, racism, drugs, pregnancy and relationships) with parallel musical backdrops. They are infinitely repeatable, and once one's ears have adjusted to the Decatur drawls, recitable ad infinitum. Not to mention the art direction is superb (a comic book in the CD jacket!? Fuck yes.)