I Can’t Get Enough Of Joe Buck & His Babies Momma Getting Swole To Jermaine Dupri’s Classic “Welcome To Atlanta”

Pretty sure I saw this IG Story from Joe Buck’s babies (TWINS!) momma Michelle Beisner Saturday morning as I was about to start moving 8 yards of mulch. And then I watched it like 20 times this weekend. There’s just something about Joe Buck pumpin’ in a gym to hip hop while biting a towel.

And then today I went to our resident hip hop authorities, L.A. James and Danny the Intern, to play name that tune. Both of them nailed it. That’s Jermaine Dupri’s classic “Welcome to Atlanta” playing in the gym. We’re talking 2001. Back in Joe Buck’s club days. Late nights on the road. Hip hop clubs from coast to coast.

I’d pay big money for the rest of the video where Joe & Michelle go nuts yelling

Saturday, is off the heezy fo’ sheezy, you can find me up in one-tweezy
Sunday, is when i get my sleepin’ 
Cause on Monday we be at it again, Holla!
Yo, Yo.. Yo..Yo, Yo,
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play

Full lyrics for Jermaine’s classic…Danny The Intern’s Atlanta anthem:

Yeah, Welcome to Atlanta, jack and hammer and vogues’
Back to the mackin’ and jackin’ the clothes, adolescent packin a fo’
A knock on the do’, who is it?
I would happen to know, the one with the flow
Who did it?, it was me I suppose
J-D in the Rollz and Luda’s in the Cutt Supreme
Skatin down old Nat, Gat tooked and lean
I split ya spleen, as matter’ fact I split ya team
No blood on the sneak’s, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
Im allergic to ‘doc perscribed anti-histemines
Oink Oink, Pig Pig, do away with the pork
Only siguar needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners, Im loose with banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when i shoot the cannon
The Wooley mammoth saber-tooth, bitch bite your tounge
I wont stop until Im rich as them white-boy come
I pull up in the black Lotus, you’re plaque’s are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waiting for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin’ ’em up, Im big paper like pancakes, stackin’ ’em up
In fact Im slappin’ ’em up, Cadallacin’ the truck
I cant loose with 22″s, Bitch thats whats up
Runnin in the back the fuck, runnin better than aquaduct
chil-li-li-li-li-n.. what
Yo, Yo.. Yo..Yo, Yo,
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’
Now the party dont start ’til I walk in
And I usually dont leave until the thing ends
But in the mean-time, in between time
You work yo thing, I’ll work mine
I been puttin’ it down here since 83′
Since the late show MD rivalry
More froze than bad ice, with a place to be
If you was ridin, you was ballin to homie Shadi
Im the MBP, Most Ballernous Player
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen’s Club
Tuesday night, Im up in the velvet room, gettin fucked up
Wednesday, Im at strokers on lean
Thursday, jump clean, and I fall up in cream
Friday, shark bar kyack with Frank Skeem, right on the floor is where you can 
find me
Saturday, is off the heezy fo’ sheezy, you can find me up in one-tweezy
Sunday, is when i get my sleepin’ 
Cause on Monday we be at it again, Holla!
Yo, Yo.. Yo..Yo, Yo,
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’
Yo, Yo.. Yo..Yo, Yo,
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’
Welcome to Atlanta where the playas play
And we ride on them things like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’
And parties dont stop til’ eight in the mornin’