Big Boi, Big K.R.I.T., UGK - Gossip lyrics
[Big Boi, Big K.R.I.T., UGK - Gossip lyrics]
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
No introductions needed boy just
Call me the undefeated (BIG)
And underneath this Georgia drawl
I know I can't be seen with
Bifocals because my vocals are classic
Like Coca-Cola when they had
Cocaine in the package
I meant to say blow in the ingredients
I went to the mall today and
All the niggas had on smediums
Little bitty ass clothes
Like Dancing with the Stars without the
Judges or the dance flo'
Oh and niggas don't dance no more
All they do is this
Beef it up, call me venus fly trap
Waiting on fly emcees to eat em up
I'm fly as I can be, them weak as fuck
And ain't no keeping up
I'm balls deep and them ain't deep enough
Fat stacks, Cadillac killer
Cataract prescription filler
I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles
The city of lost angels
A connoisseur of cannabis and
From Atlanta bitch
We never shop with strangers
No matter what strain they slanging
Some of the game rules done changed
Niggas is out here talking like a
Cockatoo to a cop or two
Now they watching you and your
Mama too, bird's eye view, view
Uh I'm getting blowed on the regular
Riding and talking dirty on my cellular
Playa, I got some young girls
That'll sell you some
And if you my homeboy, she gon' give you some
And it's all for the paper
But she still gon' cum
You dipping in the cookie jar
And now you're sprung, uh
I'll have you tripping like you smoking furl
Playa my hoes don't talk
Anybody gon' tell your girl
Okay, now niggas wanna tell it
Hoes wanna gossip
Cause they pussy wasn't hitting and
They lip was super sloppy
Suck a, duck a mothafucka, rims chop
Lorena Bobbit
Want my money corner pocket, plenty game ho
Sop it like a biscuit, King
Of Diamonds, king of tricking
What's the difference?
Got it popping like a skillet with
Some chicken grease in it
Country boy, I'm country raised
From the belly to the grave
Word to Pimp nobody tripping 'cause
The money already made Krizzle
Man, I hate it all the time
I got haters in my biz
Talking bout the trill but don't know
What the fuck it is
Mothafuckas nowadays are seriously sorry
Thinking that the key to life is
Putting your business on Maury
You say you rocking Mauri
But that motherfucker Rockport
Always talking bout you bust it
But your Glock short
I know the truth so ain't
No need in your lying
Bullshit ain't working
Ain't no need in your trying
Dying to be the nigga that's
Spied in the telescope
Crime with trilla niggas
Put iron to your belly folks
Telling them tall tales, fibs, and humdangers
Save it for Jeremy Kyle, Steve
Or Jerry Spranger buzzing like a bee
Tryna stick me with your stanger
You can get the middle, what middle
The finger
Stick it in your ass and let it linger
No homo and hit the high note
Like and R&B singer on promo