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lirik lagu big k.r.i.t. - country shit (remix)

[intro: ludacris]
i’ve been waiting to tell them about this country sh-t
i’ma learn ya! you ready? luda!

[verse 1: ludacris]
let me tell you about these old-school chevys, cadillacs, ss impalas
if you smoking then we got more sacks than troy polamalu
your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys
in atlanta we get that paper, can you haters say “cheese”?
10,000 watt amps, 6 15-inch kickers
my truck bumpin’ like injecting -ss-shots, like a stripper
no insurance on these whips, tags all outdated
i might not be sh-t to you, but my momma thinks i made it
we gon’ ball ’til we fall or this conjure get us wasted
and i never drink that white, all my women think i’m racist
on that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce
that my name is ludacris and i’m like “b-tch!”

[hook: big krit]
let me tell you bout this super fly, dirty dirty, third coast
muddy water, shawty pop that p-ssy if ya wanna
let me tell you bout this, old school, pourin’ lean
candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean
let me tell you bout this country sh-t, country country sh-t
let me tell you bout this country sh-t, country country sh-t
let me tell you bout this country sh-t, country country sh-t
let me tell you bout this country sh-t, country country sh-t
country country sh-t

[verse 2: big krit]
i told ’em, “aw man hold up,” country is what country does
m-i-crooked letter, ho, who you know do it better, folk?
pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine
keep a parachute for this alt-tude
cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe
may day, hollering out payday
knockin’ pictures off the wall when i creep
pros get wet as f-ck when i speak
southern drawl, it’s just the way it be
heavy like sumo, numero uno
pourin’ up brown, she sipping on nuvo
pimpin’ so cold, never trick on a ho
outer sp-ce with the flow like i’m living on pluto, you know
b-tch, i’m ugk influenced
slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in texas
that forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid
return of 4eva, i thought you knew it
country sh-t, that’s all i see
that’s all i know, that’s all i feel, that’s all i am, that’s all i’ll be

[hook: big krit]

[verse 3: bun b]
candy painted ‘lac biarritz, sitting on 24’s – vogue
pull up on my scene and i mack your b-tch
it ain’t hard to tell, i suppose she chose
to send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes
this charlie sheen pimping too big to lose
roll with trues and keep girls in twos
boy, you must’ve heard wrong, why you be confused?
see, i’m the big brother of sweet james
i know all about these street games
but the trick gon’ pay, the chick gon’ say
so she can’t lie about what she bring
i’m certified like usda
representing texas, straight up out the pa
graduated the school of hard knocks with a ba
right under the nose of the vice and the da
anything we say, take it as law, n-gga
when i’m in the booth, no rubber, i’m raw, n-gga
talk about getting busted in your jaw, n-gga
like i’m your pa, run go tell your ma, n-gga
no flaw n-gga, 100 percent
old school no gl-ss house, i’m under the tint
ask anybody here who running this sh-t, it’s big bun in this b-tch

[hook: big krit]

- lirik lagu big k r i t

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