[Ludacris:]
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Yeah
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I been waiting to tell them about this country shit
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I'm a learn ya
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You ready?
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LUDA!
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Let me tell ya bout these old school Chevy's
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Cadillac SS Impalas
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If you smoking then we got mo' sacks then Troy Polamalu
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Yo potnas want some quarters, my potnas want some keys
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In Atlanta we get that paper can you haters say cheese?
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Ten-thousand watt amps, six-fifteen inch kcikers
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My trunk bumpin like an ejected ass shots like a stripper
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No insurance on these whips tags all outdated
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I might not be shit too you, but my momma thinks I made it
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We goin ball till we fall on this ganja get us wasted
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And I never drink that white; all my women think I'm racist
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On that brown with a twist, tell these hoes to reminisce
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That my name is Ludacris and I'm like BIATCH!
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[Hook: Big K.R.I.T.]
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Let me tell you bout this super fly dirty dirty Third coast muddy water
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Shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna
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Let me tell you bout this Old school pourin' lean candied yams and collard greens
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Pocket fulla stones ridin' clean
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Let me tell you bout this country shit
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Country country shit (country country shit)
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Let me tell you bout this country shit
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Country country shit (country country shit)
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Let me tell you bout this country shit
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Country country shit (country country shit)
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Let me tell you bout this country shit
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Country country shit (country country shit)
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[Big K.R.I.T.:]
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I told em ah man hold up country is what country does
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In my crooked letter hoe, who you know do it better foe?
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Do a lil hop out clean, in my old school time ma-chine
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Keep a parachute for this altitude cause when ya riding this high make it hard to breathe
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Mayday, hollin out payday
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Macking pictures off the wall when I creep
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Pros get wet as fuck when I speak
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Southern draw is just the way it be
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Heavy like sumo, numero uno
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Pourin' up Brown she sippin on Nuvo
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Pimpin' so cold of a trick on a hoe outta space with the flow
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Like I'm living on Pluto, you know
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Bitch, I'm UGK influenced
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Slow it down, chop-chop and screw it
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For the folks in Texas they forever wrecking
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With the Styrofoam cup and the purple fluid
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Return of 4eva I thought'cha knew it
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Country shit that's all I see
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That's all I know, that's all I feel
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That's all I am, that's all I been
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[Hook: Big K.R.I.T.]
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[Bun B:]
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Candy-candy paint and 'lac berets
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Sitting on 24's or vouges
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Pull up on the scene and I mack ya bitch
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It ain't hard to tell I suppose she chose
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She sending over the clothes, the wigs and shoes
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This Charlie Sheen pimpin too deep too lose
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Roll with duce and keep girls in twos
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Boy you must of heard wrong well you been confused
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See I'm the big brother of Sweet James
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I know all about these street gangs
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When the trick goin pay, the chick goin stay
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So she can't lop out what she brang
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I'm certified like U.S.D.A.
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Representing Texas straight up outta P.A.
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Graduated school of hard knocks with a BA
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Right under the nose of the vice and the D.A.
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Anything we say take it as a law nigga
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When I'm in the booth no rubber I'm raw nigga
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Talk down or get bust in ya jaw nigga
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Lock up ya pal go run tell ya ma nigga
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No flaw nigga one-hundred percent old school no glass house I'm under ten
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Ask anybody here who's running this shit
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It's big Bun ya bitch
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[Hook: Big K.R.I.T.]
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-----------------
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Country Shit (Remix)
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| Big KRIT |
