Big K.R.I.T., Big Sant - Made Alot lyrics
[Big K.R.I.T., Big Sant - Made Alot lyrics]
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Ay but fuck it then
Cause, I rather ride Bubble Benz
And push a bucket break, scrubbing paint
Bubbling up again, on my hood
Gotta get it while the gettin good
A chemist with the pimpin mix the
Leather with the cherry wood
If you could you should slam doors on hoes
I 5th wheel my trunk
While white-wallin my vogues
I tight walk on these foes just to flex
Ain't no sense in stepping out if
I can't never look my best
Damn, don’t stress my bankroll
Just know I keep my bank swoll
Ain’t no place I can’t go
Never trick on no stank ho
It was like that back when I
Was in my mama’s stomach
A player slid up out the womb
And hit the ground running
Never stumbling always gunning like
A popped Glock keep a hater boxed out
So I could rebound and ball for the top spot
All the same I’m a staple in the game
Ain't never been no lame
That’s why I find it strange when I
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Who the fuck are you
Texting me at 1: 46 in the evening
Meant the morning, after midnight
While I’m yawning, you were sleeping
4 door Chevy roll I’m out'chea creeping
Slamming doors in
Heavy things but I want some more
With playa pose, Roll up on hoes
That say they knew me from high-school
Maybe community college
Claim they wanna do some thangs
But, I can do without it
My mama name "Such and such" and
We go back like baby powder
Baby I doubt it, it’s hard to swallow
You wanna lay up, I want a dollar
For the machine, I’m kinda thirsty
A little parched, she wanna ride
No you cannot
She say I’m mean I say just the hoes
And dumb niggas, kinda like you
Them B's and doe's
Reject request on Facebook
Daily duckin lames
All you know is my patna 'em then my name
Plus you heard that I
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
You probably see me in the street
But nigga you don't know me
Big Sant bitch, motherfucking OG
From the Sip get a grip
Wanna visit take a trip
Ain’t a nigga dead or alive that
Can say that I done flipped
Im from the land of the cheese
Home of the slave
Don’t confuse me with no lame
Cause that’s what just I ain’t
Alumni forever put that on the
Nigga next to me
Started out writing rhymes ended
Up writing a legacy
They hollerin there he go again
What's his name, where his folk?
Call him Kurt, call him KRIT?
Fuck that nigga I ain’t sure
He got beats, heard him flow
Like a couple years ago
He alright, kinda tight
Shawty like him on the low
There he go, too much soul
I wouldn’t buy it out the store
Plus I saw him in the club
One who hollered at my ho
Just because he got some dough
From a deal he think he ill
I bet thats how that motherfucka feel
And on the real I think he changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Ay but fuck it then
Cause, I rather ride Bubble Benz
And push a bucket break, scrubbing paint
Bubbling up again, on my hood
Gotta get it while the gettin good
A chemist with the pimpin mix the
Leather with the cherry wood
If you could you should slam doors on hoes
I 5th wheel my trunk
While white-wallin my vogues
I tight walk on these foes just to flex
Ain't no sense in stepping out if
I can't never look my best
Damn, don’t stress my bankroll
Just know I keep my bank swoll
Ain’t no place I can’t go
Never trick on no stank ho
It was like that back when I
Was in my mama’s stomach
A player slid up out the womb
And hit the ground running
Never stumbling always gunning like
A popped Glock keep a hater boxed out
So I could rebound and ball for the top spot
All the same I’m a staple in the game
Ain't never been no lame
That’s why I find it strange when I
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
Who the fuck are you
Texting me at 1: 46 in the evening
Meant the morning, after midnight
While I’m yawning, you were sleeping
4 door Chevy roll I’m out'chea creeping
Slamming doors in
Heavy things but I want some more
With playa pose, Roll up on hoes
That say they knew me from high-school
Maybe community college
Claim they wanna do some thangs
But, I can do without it
My mama name "Such and such" and
We go back like baby powder
Baby I doubt it, it’s hard to swallow
You wanna lay up, I want a dollar
For the machine, I’m kinda thirsty
A little parched, she wanna ride
No you cannot
She say I’m mean I say just the hoes
And dumb niggas, kinda like you
Them B's and doe's
Reject request on Facebook
Daily duckin lames
All you know is my patna 'em then my name
Plus you heard that I
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
Made a lot of cheese, people say I changed
But, if you thinking that you never
Knew me from the gate man
You probably see me in the street
But nigga you don't know me
Big Sant bitch, motherfucking OG
From the Sip get a grip
Wanna visit take a trip
Ain’t a nigga dead or alive that
Can say that I done flipped
Im from the land of the cheese
Home of the slave
Don’t confuse me with no lame
Cause that’s what just I ain’t
Alumni forever put that on the
Nigga next to me
Started out writing rhymes ended
Up writing a legacy
They hollerin there he go again
What's his name, where his folk?
Call him Kurt, call him KRIT?
Fuck that nigga I ain’t sure
He got beats, heard him flow
Like a couple years ago
He alright, kinda tight
Shawty like him on the low
There he go, too much soul
I wouldn’t buy it out the store
Plus I saw him in the club
One who hollered at my ho
Just because he got some dough
From a deal he think he ill
I bet thats how that motherfucka feel
And on the real I think he changed