Big K.R.I.T., Dem Boyz B - Jackin' 4 Beats lyrics
[Big K.R.I.T., Dem Boyz B - Jackin' 4 Beats lyrics]
Hey whats the motherfuckin' deal baby?
K-R-I T in the motherfuckin' booth
Hitlab studios, Multi Records, 3-0 B
Queen City i'm jackin' 4 beats nigga
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
Hey, you niggas talk a lot -
I see it in your nature
You ain't feelin' me?
Ya'll motherfuckers haters
But, I expose the fake asap, the K clap
Pull up in a Maybach and
Leave a hater face flat
With no remorse for him
Better call his peoples
He couldn't feel it in the air
He was Beanie Seagel
I showed up breakin' bread, takin' name
And givin' orders
Yea, I'm something like Troy
Universal soldier
I made it in the street but
They heard it miles away
How he known in Atlanta? He live miles away
I'm that 'sippi shawty
No more cotton pickin'
Unless you talkin' white-tees and
Throwbacks I'm kickin'
We pop the tags and buying
Bars while our bumpers drag
They gettin' mad and jockin' hard
Cause those niggas fag i'm 'bout my paper
You can keep the fuckin' fame dear
I'm touchin' down
I'm about to change the game here
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
That boy got flow, that boy gone grind
That boy gone blow, that boy gone shine
That boy got hustle, that boy got fire
That boy done struggle, that boy gone ride
Okay, when you see me
Don't speak unless it's 'bout some cheddar
I ain't in the closet, but I got Barrettas
I know gorilla niggas, call 'em jungle fellas
They ridin' on propellers and open up like
On them niggas that claim they
Gutter and own the spots i'm Mr clean
I street sweep niggas off the block
I don't fare well with niggas talkin' down G
The K's a Buddhist in this game
I don't eat beef i just kill bars and flood
Hoods with sick beats
And make niggas quit rappin' and get J-O-Bs
Because I'm hot with it and they not with it
I could sign after I die
- blow and sell millions
I touch the hood with the swagger
Sayin' flow's a miracle
They way I spit up on the track
Some would say is spiritual
I got the Glock Four
I sell it all for profit
I got the South with me shawty
Can't nobody stop it
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
That boy got flow, that boy gone grind
That boy gone blow, that boy gone shine
That boy got hustle, that boy got fire
That boy done struggle, that boy gone ride
K-R-I T in the motherfuckin' booth
Hitlab studios, Multi Records, 3-0 B
Queen City i'm jackin' 4 beats nigga
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
Hey, you niggas talk a lot -
I see it in your nature
You ain't feelin' me?
Ya'll motherfuckers haters
But, I expose the fake asap, the K clap
Pull up in a Maybach and
Leave a hater face flat
With no remorse for him
Better call his peoples
He couldn't feel it in the air
He was Beanie Seagel
I showed up breakin' bread, takin' name
And givin' orders
Yea, I'm something like Troy
Universal soldier
I made it in the street but
They heard it miles away
How he known in Atlanta? He live miles away
I'm that 'sippi shawty
No more cotton pickin'
Unless you talkin' white-tees and
Throwbacks I'm kickin'
We pop the tags and buying
Bars while our bumpers drag
They gettin' mad and jockin' hard
Cause those niggas fag i'm 'bout my paper
You can keep the fuckin' fame dear
I'm touchin' down
I'm about to change the game here
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
That boy got flow, that boy gone grind
That boy gone blow, that boy gone shine
That boy got hustle, that boy got fire
That boy done struggle, that boy gone ride
Okay, when you see me
Don't speak unless it's 'bout some cheddar
I ain't in the closet, but I got Barrettas
I know gorilla niggas, call 'em jungle fellas
They ridin' on propellers and open up like
On them niggas that claim they
Gutter and own the spots i'm Mr clean
I street sweep niggas off the block
I don't fare well with niggas talkin' down G
The K's a Buddhist in this game
I don't eat beef i just kill bars and flood
Hoods with sick beats
And make niggas quit rappin' and get J-O-Bs
Because I'm hot with it and they not with it
I could sign after I die
- blow and sell millions
I touch the hood with the swagger
Sayin' flow's a miracle
They way I spit up on the track
Some would say is spiritual
I got the Glock Four
I sell it all for profit
I got the South with me shawty
Can't nobody stop it
The killa K gonna blow
Off anything you drivin'
Five in the mornin' knockin'
Hey, I'm the hottest, it's my CD they coppin'
Hey, I destroy you anywhere, anybody
That boy got flow, that boy gone grind
That boy gone blow, that boy gone shine
That boy got hustle, that boy got fire
That boy done struggle, that boy gone ride