Gumpshun
(专辑: K.R.I.T. Wuz Here - 2010)
[Chorus] They know just who we are Roll in fo' deep cars Polo down, country bound Tight like Mason jars My grandma used to say Boy you got, boy you got, boy you got gumption Boy you got, boy you got, boy you got gumption Boy you got, boy you got, boy you got gumption Boy you got, boy you got, boy you got gumption First off, I'm the
country of the
countriest Mississippi bitch, what you know about this country shit? Hold on, prolong, I'm knowing what you thanking Naw, it ain't the
chitterlings that got this shit here stanking Jumping, bumping through the
speakers, sub booming Shawty, I've been stroking is what I've been doing Everybody got something to say about how we get down when we get round, cause it's thirty-eights on the
Crown Vic So I
use a
ladder to get down with Ay, thick and for the
picking's what I'm fine with Her face ahh! Ass astounding She micro-braided, I
pull it and pound it That malt liquor keep a
nigga grounded on the
porch with my kinfolk lounging up underneath the
stars They talk about my state, but they know just who we are [Chorus] Psychedelic, excelling on Daytons and Vogues [?] majestic, I'm killing these hoes Sprinkle game of the
greenest, the
meanest of flows Planting seeds in your mentals and leave it to grow Eager to know, how to get money and bring it to daddy Evenly so, buy me some gators and pull up the
Caddy Open my do', jump from my car, round and clean up my palace Throw on my robe, run my bath water and fill up my chalice Sit on my balance beam until her belly cream If that pussy needs ramming, I'm battering Player way, tailor made, always in a
gator state '92 Bulls on a
fool, that's how players play For the
win like M.J. straight away Shook 'em off, no time left, fuck it, fade away Buzzer, it's all over with Champagne with lobster and shrimp, pimp [Chorus] Ay, ay player play on, I
roller-skate on I
was taught to give 'em something just to hate on Like a
Ford engine light, I
just stay on or, to find a
yellow belly I
can take home or, lay on cause it ain't nothing but a
skill to You either get her done barbecue or meal dude Let the
super-fly inside you steer you because being lame's a
disease, it can kill you So let me put you on these hoes Chevy that be heavy and the
wall that be Vogue Peanut butter guts with the
grape jelly glow Chromed-out bumper with the
Cobain do's That's suicide shit if ain't know that Need a
lil' pimping? Baby girl, let me pour that Sow that up with some dough on it I
was born with the
gift of gab, so motherfucker throw a
bow on it [Chorus]