Lyrics How U Luv That - Big K.R.I.T., Big Sant

How U Luv That

Shit, I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
Old school my whip, King Tut my wrist
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
I put on my clique, hoes on my dick
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
Fuck what you heard hoe, they know bout the crizzle
The Chevy on gold Pirelli’s, with the pole in the middle
I break a hoe if she brittle,
Pimping hot off the griddle
Fucking busters that’s creeping and fucking for nothing
So high up figure
I was trickin off, candy paint my candy frame
Don’t be ashamed to lick it off
Hail Mary’s to game, to a dame, and you can’t pick it off
Off the chain, I can sick it off
Time and time again I try to tell em lemme kick it off and bang on
Put them lames on,
It ain’t more tied if I ain’t put my name on
Make the kind of track to put a train on
Styrofoam, purple rain on
Fresh up out the cleanest, bout the meanest, not a stain on it
Rain on it, pussy chains on it,
Bet the game on it
Bout whoop a beat to the frequency that a bitch came on it
Keep it rango, bitch you lookin hang on the flow
I leave a bitch fiending for some more
Shit, I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
Old school my whip, King Tut my wrist
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
I put on my clique, hoes on my dick
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
Yeah, B is I, G front biatch,
Young creep nigga, hoe you know just what I be bout
It’s time to take out the T tops, we own that, like banners
Man hold up, my car older than your favorite rapper
This that shit that they should capture on film
Lights, camera, action life
Bitch my pimpin 1080p without no satellite
Some niggas ain’t acting right,
Talking bout who run the south
They know us since they stick it, ain’t no Robotuss to help em out
I’ve been official, big dog in the yard,
Rollin more likely to murder every verse that I start
So as soon as I park, and I hop on the pot
Better leave with yo bitch, for I’m off in her mouth
Cause I’m a big timer rhymer, no cosigners will rhyme for you
If I ain’t with that clear then let me break it down for you
They lame, we not, see us, on top,
Alumni forever ever bitch,
They know I got the…
Shit, I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
Old school my whip, King Tut my wrist
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?
I put on my clique, hoes on my dick
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
How you love that?
I got the hook up bitch,
What you know bout this?