Lyrics Tax Free - Big K.R.I.T.

Tax Free

Feel like I should’ve put a gorilla in for this one, God damn
That invisible set again the way the cadence though, God damn
Uh
They holler, «Krizzle, where you been?"I've been out here on it
Studio going
Kicking and flowing
Three in the morning
Tryna make something worth it 'cause most this rap shit ain’t working
I’m fully focused on climbing, these clowns, they clown for the circus, uh
I’m just tryna ride a city I ain’t never been
And get that club appearance money that’s too much to spend
And buy another old-school and sit it on some rims
And hit the nearest KOD and throw it in the wind
Hell, it was tax free
I’ll blow all that shit before they tax me
The ticket for today, that other ticket last week
We talking prices, you don’t like it, then don’t ask me
'Cause every time I kick a verse, the price go higher and higher
I make a beat and rapped on it, that’s like fire to fire
When most these lames was in they feelings, I was rotating tires
Selling country shit when the label said that they wouldn’t buy it
Like, why would you deny it?
Them niggas get live-est
When I get on my live shit, I might start a riot
Despite my empire, you act like I’m lying
Now I’m on the top five, bitch, and wasn’t even trying, uh
They drop the ball all they want and I’ma pick it up
Windmill three-sixty behind the back, but it just ain’t enough
I’m left to shoot the shot, one on the clock, I’m living for the clutch
A nigga that don’t understand the game someone that I can’t trust
A ho that’s down to fuck for fame’s a ho that I can’t fuck
When you King Midas with the flow, some shit you just can’t touch
Gold twinkies, I’m out here swinging on these hoes
Multi be the gang, I’m out here banging on these hoes
No half-stepping, Big Daddy Kane on these hoes
More money, more money, I’m Damon Wayans on these hoes
From the 2000s
I’ma buy what I want while you browsing
We set the standard higher than a giant standing on two mountains
I built my ship to ride the wave, I’m like, «Who drowning?»
Nowadays, the bag a hot potato, my nigga like, «You count it»
Too much, wrist hurting
How much?
Ain’t certain
Gotta break it down, use the money counter, and watch out for these niggas
lurking
Yeah, it’s crazy how I spit and now it’s in the game, I got these bitches
twerking
Multi 'til the sun die (Yee), twelve for twelve with these verses
Krizzle (Yee)
Krizzle
Let’s go