Lyrics Big K.R.I.T.

Big K.R.I.T.

Mo Better Cool

Glisten like the sun off the candy

Got the tool in the dash, keep at hand

Jammin', up and down the boulevard, swang

Trunk still bangin', screens still hangin'

Old habits die hard, ain't shit changed

Bumping, still reclined, still swang and bang

Grippin' wood grain, grippin' wood grain

I remember when I used to roll

A bucket, no ducket to my name and my soul

Hoes used to front everywhere I go

But that's cool

Yea shit changed cause we on

Now I'm tailor made, choppin' blades and I'm grown

Now the same hoes won't leave me alone

But that's cool

So now usually I don't boast or brag

But, today different

Went from bucket, brake scrappin', to swinging like Kenny Griffey

I was scrawny than a motherfucker

When I was younger, got my weight up like a jumper

Now I'm solid with' these numbers

Maxin' out on these hoes, Marinated my pimpin'

Cause when you season they peepin'

And scrape it right out the skillet

Got a vision for vixens, drop it low like the bass

Her pussy tighter than pliers that squeeze the wine outta grapes

So I hit it slow

Flea flicker, give and go

I know that the shine the only reason she kick it for

I went from not a thing, to a Caddy frame, throw it off in the game

When you came and you got changed, shit can't be the same

So I'm chillin', bumpin', grillin'

Hollin' out fuck the feeling's of critics

That claim they come from slums but they from my village for real

Cause while these lames sittin' still

I hit the road, broke the mold, and came up on a mil

BITCH!

Man I'm a wild motherfucker, back when I was round 20

Fuck niggas thought you wouldn't find me round any

Rollin' one deep in the Buick parked ave

With a sawed off shotgun that cut your ass in half

Laughin' at these niggas that was hatin' on the low

Cause on the cool, I was puttin' dick off in they ho

And on the cut, you couldn't short stop me for the blow

Cause I be with the pistol, knockin' on your front door

See where I come from, you can't just tell me that you hard

Niggas'll come and box you up in your front yard

Betta' to not talk about pullin' out the GAT

Cause on sight we put that 9 milli to yah' hat

Now as I got older, my rep got colder

These niggas wouldn't dare to knock the chip up off my shoulder

Certified soldier with the stripes that'll prove it

I got my reputation in the streets, fuck the music

Yea! Reporting live from the ceiling, enjoy the view bitch

Sho' gone make a killin', ain't nothin' new bitch

Cept' the pressure from the heckle checkin' from the nosebleeds

Ho please, I can't even see you from my flo' seats

The boy came to play and no this ain't a game

Dunkin', trunkin, thumpin' purple colored gators mayne

Hold up, this win is on us

It's a celebration, bitch, every time I show up

Get in the way, get swole up

That's no luck for anyone tryna outshine us

Plenty of haters that couldn't get haters are heard steppin' behind us

Better catch on to our coattails, I boast well, while I shit talk

That bullshit we don't let walk

Cripple their chances, cripple advances, stickin' the landin'

Then I, jumped up off the porch with'

All of this dough that I'm gone get

Respect that or get yo' dome split

And on it I stay, no reprieve for no punk

Consider your ship sunk, I'm just bein' Big Sant bitch