Big K R I T K R I T 4eva Lyrics
K.R.I.T. 4eva by Big K.R.I.T.
Aye, man, chapter one like that
Chapter one like
Chapter one
Let me die just to see my name on the wall
Never fall, gotta make due
Yea I signed my first deal, wasn't no mill
Barely had a dollar to my name and I was broke by day two
Doing all types of songs, they were jammin, don't get me wrong
But my pops was like "J this ain't you"
Now I'm in the 'sip take a trip to B-Ham
Cause eating off the food in my grandma's kitchen wouldn't do
I'm talking in the studio
All night mixing from scratch
Making beats, at the best getting less than the crack my nigga servin'
Thinking "Where did I go wrong?"
Never should have quit school
I'd probably make more money flipping burgers
Than kicking verses for niggas serving chicken for skrilla
To buy some bottles for change
But all the while I'm hurting inside, tucking my pride
Knowing I'm ahead of the game, shit
I wrote my best songs on the grey hound of the A
Bitch I swear I ate a sandwich a day
I'm talking shit with the junkies at the race track
Pedaling CD's that most niggas ain't played
Gave it for free, cause most niggas ain't paid
I gotta get heard, take a hit of that herb, my nigga pinchin' off
I'm high as fuck, asking myself
What good is a win if I take a loss?
There's no answer
Blow the re-up on a dancer
Down to fuck for money but I'm to scared to chance her
Hit the DJ booth to get my songs spint
Talking "Just Touched Down" but my flight got cancelled
With a bottle in my hand, it's pretty much gone
Take a slow sip, tryna pretend that I'm on
With these 'sace shades, buck 50 soakin wet,
With the heart of a lion but my pockets of a wretch
And that's before your favorite rapper said he was a vet
I didn't have muscle to pull
I couldn't stretch to the finish line
While you was eating breakfast it was dinner time
For a pro nigga go getter
Young nigga face but the soul of a old nigga
Grew up to be just like my pops and it shows, nigga
Rap name fixed
But then there was a whole lot of "Who the fuck is this?"
A whole lot of cursing: "Who the fuck is KRIT?"
Another acronym that don't stand for shit
And when it comes to names that's as bad as it gets
Fast forward ten years, now who don't know KRIT?
Two albums on the shelf, I beat the sophomore jinx
I lost a few friends over ends, we don't speak
I'm thinking this must be what God really want for me
Top floor reminiscing, lord I can't sleep
Like, what happens if I close my eyes and it's all a dream
And I'm backin that telly on Martin Luther King
Tryna make a difference
Caught up in my feelings, lord why they won't listen?
Riding with my partner and he riding dirty
I'm kinda scared, cause I know he ain't gonna take his charge
He ain't prepared, and he'll have to face that
And I just needed another ride to the race track
I'm so thankful that them laws never pulled us over
God took the wheel, cause neither one of us was sober
Downing bottle after bottle just to make it better
I survived the worst of it, now it's KRIT 4eva
Multi
Chapter one like
Chapter one
Let me die just to see my name on the wall
Never fall, gotta make due
Yea I signed my first deal, wasn't no mill
Barely had a dollar to my name and I was broke by day two
Doing all types of songs, they were jammin, don't get me wrong
But my pops was like "J this ain't you"
Now I'm in the 'sip take a trip to B-Ham
Cause eating off the food in my grandma's kitchen wouldn't do
I'm talking in the studio
All night mixing from scratch
Making beats, at the best getting less than the crack my nigga servin'
Thinking "Where did I go wrong?"
Never should have quit school
I'd probably make more money flipping burgers
Than kicking verses for niggas serving chicken for skrilla
To buy some bottles for change
But all the while I'm hurting inside, tucking my pride
Knowing I'm ahead of the game, shit
I wrote my best songs on the grey hound of the A
Bitch I swear I ate a sandwich a day
I'm talking shit with the junkies at the race track
Pedaling CD's that most niggas ain't played
Gave it for free, cause most niggas ain't paid
I gotta get heard, take a hit of that herb, my nigga pinchin' off
I'm high as fuck, asking myself
What good is a win if I take a loss?
There's no answer
Blow the re-up on a dancer
Down to fuck for money but I'm to scared to chance her
Hit the DJ booth to get my songs spint
Talking "Just Touched Down" but my flight got cancelled
With a bottle in my hand, it's pretty much gone
Take a slow sip, tryna pretend that I'm on
With these 'sace shades, buck 50 soakin wet,
With the heart of a lion but my pockets of a wretch
And that's before your favorite rapper said he was a vet
I didn't have muscle to pull
I couldn't stretch to the finish line
While you was eating breakfast it was dinner time
For a pro nigga go getter
Young nigga face but the soul of a old nigga
Grew up to be just like my pops and it shows, nigga
Rap name fixed
But then there was a whole lot of "Who the fuck is this?"
A whole lot of cursing: "Who the fuck is KRIT?"
Another acronym that don't stand for shit
And when it comes to names that's as bad as it gets
Fast forward ten years, now who don't know KRIT?
Two albums on the shelf, I beat the sophomore jinx
I lost a few friends over ends, we don't speak
I'm thinking this must be what God really want for me
Top floor reminiscing, lord I can't sleep
Like, what happens if I close my eyes and it's all a dream
And I'm backin that telly on Martin Luther King
Tryna make a difference
Caught up in my feelings, lord why they won't listen?
Riding with my partner and he riding dirty
I'm kinda scared, cause I know he ain't gonna take his charge
He ain't prepared, and he'll have to face that
And I just needed another ride to the race track
I'm so thankful that them laws never pulled us over
God took the wheel, cause neither one of us was sober
Downing bottle after bottle just to make it better
I survived the worst of it, now it's KRIT 4eva
Multi