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Correct Mo Better Cool Lyrics
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Artists: B
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Big K.R.I.T.
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Correct Mo Better Cool
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[Bridge:] Glisten like the sun off the candy Got the tool in the dash, keep it handy 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 [Hook: Devin The Dude] I remember when I used to roll A bucket, no ducat 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 [Verse 1: Big KRIT] 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 juggernaut Now I'm solid wit' 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 the village for real Cause while these lames sittin' still I hit the road, broke the mold, and came up on a mil BITCH! [Hook: Devin The Dude] [Verse 2: Bun B] Man I'm a wild motherfucker, back when I was round 20 Fuck niggas nah you wouldn't find me round any Rollin' one deep in the Buick Park 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 [Hook: Devin The Dude] [Verse 3: Big Sant] 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 hecklers 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 wit' 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 [Bridge:]
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