Big Boi

Big Boi - Gossip lyrics

rate me

feat UGK and Big K.R.I.T.

[Hook: Big Krit x2]

Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip

Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip

Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip

[Verse 1: Big Boi]

No introductions needed boy just call me the undefeated (Big)

And underneath this Georgia dry I know I can't be seen with (Bigger)

Bifocals because my vocals are classic

Like Coca Cola when they had cocaine in the package

I meant to say blow in the ingredients

I went to the mall today and all the niggas had on smediums

Little bitty ass clothes

Like Dancing with the Stars without the judges or the dance flo'

(Oh) And niggas don't dance no more, all they do is this

Beef it up, call me venus fly trap, waiting on fly emcees to eat 'em up

I'm fly as I can be, them weak as fuck

And ain't no keeping up, I'm balls deep and them ain't deep enough

Fat stacks, Cadillac killer, cataract prescription filler

I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles, the city of lost angels

A connoisseur of cannabis and from Atlanta bitch

We never shop with strangers, no matter what strain they slanging

Some of the game rules done changed

Niggas is out here talking like a cockatoo to a cop or two

Now they watching you and yo mama too, bird's eye view, view

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2: Pimp C]

Uh, I'm getting blowed on the regular

Riding and talking dirty on my cellular

Playa I got some young girls that'll sell you some

And if you my homeboy, she gon' give you some

And it's all for the paper but she still gon' cum

You dipping in the cookie jar and now you're sprung

I'll have you tripping like you smoking furl

Playa my hoes don't talk, anybody gon' tell yo girl

[Verse 3: Big Krit]

Okay, now niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip

Cause they pussy wasn't hitting and they lip was super sloppy

Suck a, duck a mothafucka, rims chop ?

Want my money corner pocket, plenty game ho

Sop it like a biscuit, King of Diamonds, king of tricking, what's the difference

Got it popping like a skillet with some chicken grease in it

Country boy, I'm country raised, from the belly to the grave

…nobody tripping cause the money already made, Krizzle

[Hook x2]

[Verse 4: Bun B]

hater all the time, I got haters in my biz

Talking 'bout the trill but don't know what the fuck it is

Mothafuckas nowadays are seriously sorry

Thinking that the key to life is putting your business on Maury

You say you rocking Maury but that motherfucker Rockport

Always talking 'bout you bust it (bust it), but your Glock short

I know the truth so ain't no need in your lying

Bullshit ain't working, ain't no need in your trying

Dying to be the nigga that's spied in the telescopee

Crime with trilla niggas, put iron to ya belly folks

Telling them tall tales, fibs, and humdangers

Save it for Jerry , Steve, or Jerry Spranger

Buzzing like a bee, tryna stick me with your stanger

You can get the middle (What middle?) the fanger

Stick it in your ass and let it langer

No homo and hit the high note like and R&B singer on promo.

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