[Ludacris:]
Yeah

Welcome to Atlanta, home of them dirty birds
Anybody hatin' get kicked to the curb
Any other team is absurd
Wearing black, white, silver, red is for the Blood
No one scared of getting dirty 'cause we came from the mud
And we hungrier than ever, he rise, she rise
We rise together, birds of a flock
More like birds of a feather
No one here to party until we get the Lombardi
When we giving up? Never
Scratch it off your wishlist, mark it on your calendar
A-town players never play with' no amateurs
Eighty thou' strong and the fans all screaming
We get knocked down and we coming up swinging
And we putting in work, all done in brotherhood
Yeah, we like family and ATL's motherhood
Brand new home, let the games begin
This season, we back at it again
Luda

[Jermaine Dupri:]
Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo

[Jermaine Dupri