Come on, get out the way The light's green, move I hate these gangster-singers, with their music loud Ma'am, ma'am, can you please turn your rap music down? You just woke my baby up, damn it Okay, I just called the cops Don't you ever interrupt me when I'm listening to a Monica record (oh) Yeah, straight out the slumming streets of ATL I know you waited for her arrival Through the hurricanes and tornadoes and thunderstorms The climate has now changed, and the storm is now over I repeat: The storm is now over Let us begin Hey, yo, Monica: Turn the volume up