Gumpshun Lyrics - Krit Wuz Here - Big K.r.i.t.

[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 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] 

[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] 

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