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Big K.R.I.T. - Gumpshun lyrics
[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
 [Big K.R.I.T.:]
 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]
 [Big K.R.I.T.:]
 Psychedelic, excelling on Daytons and Vogues
 Majestic, I'm killing these hoes
 Sprinkle game of the greenest, the meanest of flowsBig K.R.I.T. - Gumpshun - http://motolyrics.com/big-krit/gumpshun-lyrics.html
 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]
 [Big K.R.I.T.:]
 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]









