Big KRIT – Talkin Bout Nothin Lyrics

Produced By: Big KRIT

You pyonged “Big KRIT – Talkin Bout Nothin”

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[Verse 1: Big KRIT]
Ever since I was a youngin' up in my grandmomma's house
Watchin "The Mack", reciting it back, like, "Boy what you talkin' 'bout"

Droppin' a switch, hittin' a lick
Trynna get rich off in this bitch
Droppin' my top, I'm poppin my trunk
I’m whippin' my wheel like I’m whippin' my grits
These niggas ain’t shit, these niggas ain’t real
These niggas is frauds
Most these haters been cuffing, crushing, loving all on they broads

So I pull up car, slam a do’, break a ho down
Run her throat 'til it's sore, pass that ho 'round
I say hold up, damn KRIT that's fucked up, I know it
They say hold up, damn, KRIT let's pour up, I four it
I’m feeling good, feeling great, how are you?
So much bass when I pop my tape,
Can’t feel my face, can you feel yours too?
I got this here, I got this here
Might have to chop that up
Her pussy wet, she swab the dick
Might have to mop that up

She say what’s happenin'?, I’m trynna fuck
Might have to prop that up
Bop that up, cock that up
Don’t act all shocked, bitch, slop that up

I need that
I want that
I’m 'bout that
What’s happenin?
I seen that
I bought that
I own that
I’m snappin'
Yall niggas ain’t talkin bout nothing
Not a thing, not a-not a thing ho
Yall niggas ain’t talkin bout nothing
Not a thing, not a-not a thing ho
Yall niggas ain’t talkin bout nothing
Not a thing, not a-not a thing ho
Yall niggas ain’t talkin bout nothing

That I can’t do, that you done done that I ain’t did

[Verse 2]
Ain’t nobody trippin' on yo ho, ain’t into that
Ain’t nobody trippin' on yo ho, I give her back

Cut her slack, let her go, cause she was in the VI
Ain’t like I be askin' for attention when I be out
So much tip that I can’t see, y'all stressin' busses with they feet out
If you ain’t suckin' or fuckin', well, you should keep out
Shoot the kind of bill, when they buss it gotta be by
She ain’t gotta beg, if she lookin' I can see
Right on they V I drop yo tea top, haters tend to leave out
The bottles servin', poppin', shawty look at all that we got
Look at all that we on, tell them bloggers be gone
Fuck wutchu been talkin bout, they couch I put my feet on
Ain't no blood for these haters, ain't no love for these fakes
I was born in the country, I ain’t trippin on a snake

I been fishing for these bitches, all I ever had was bait
If you think you got a problem with it, tell it to my bass


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