| 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
|
| 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
|
| 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 |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gumpshun , by - Big K.R.I.T.. Song from the album K.R.I.T. Wuz Here, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп