Big K.R.I.T. - Hood Fame lyrics
[Big K.R.I.T. - Hood Fame lyrics]
Hey, I'm back like I never left, spit to 'em
The realer you are
The quicker you get to 'em
Why front when you can't back it?
Get dough off of blow, but you can't stack it
Something like David Blaine
I got that street magic
When the coast is clear, watch it disappear
Never been a fuckboy, nigga I ain't fakin'
I'm a man of God, so they gon' hate
A lot of forks in the road
Got me thinking about tomorrow
When they see you moving up, yeah
They push you horizontal
Music is an ocean full of sharks and piranhas
A couple of octopussies here and all
The crabs at the bottom
If you know like I know
I hide amongst that core
Where Hip-Hop is still alive and
Rappers still have morals
Based on the game, they saying
"we won't change"
Like, the South just booty and
We ain't got no brain
Fuck that, my nigga, I spit crucial
That Cranberry juice, my shit
It go through ya
To get respect from Mississippi is a dream
If it means my death
I'll take one for the team
No blinking, no hesitation, I'm only me
I ain't one to do imitations
I am one to be motivated to get cheddar
I'll never be comfy knowing that
I can do better
Not your typical Southern rapper, am I?
Got the whole 3rd coast still on stand by
You get nailed down here playing with hammers
Hey, the world is yours like Tony Montana
You ain't got the types of gifts I got
New Chevy on deuce-deuce
That's the malox box get me in a custom ho
If one don't get her done
Shawty I know plenty mo'
Pretty pros, pretty faces
And they pretty toes
Pretty eyes, pretty mouths
And they pretty throats
The realer you are
The quicker you get to 'em
Why front when you can't back it?
Get dough off of blow, but you can't stack it
Something like David Blaine
I got that street magic
When the coast is clear, watch it disappear
Never been a fuckboy, nigga I ain't fakin'
I'm a man of God, so they gon' hate
A lot of forks in the road
Got me thinking about tomorrow
When they see you moving up, yeah
They push you horizontal
Music is an ocean full of sharks and piranhas
A couple of octopussies here and all
The crabs at the bottom
If you know like I know
I hide amongst that core
Where Hip-Hop is still alive and
Rappers still have morals
Based on the game, they saying
"we won't change"
Like, the South just booty and
We ain't got no brain
Fuck that, my nigga, I spit crucial
That Cranberry juice, my shit
It go through ya
To get respect from Mississippi is a dream
If it means my death
I'll take one for the team
No blinking, no hesitation, I'm only me
I ain't one to do imitations
I am one to be motivated to get cheddar
I'll never be comfy knowing that
I can do better
Not your typical Southern rapper, am I?
Got the whole 3rd coast still on stand by
You get nailed down here playing with hammers
Hey, the world is yours like Tony Montana
You ain't got the types of gifts I got
New Chevy on deuce-deuce
That's the malox box get me in a custom ho
If one don't get her done
Shawty I know plenty mo'
Pretty pros, pretty faces
And they pretty toes
Pretty eyes, pretty mouths
And they pretty throats