Big K.R.I.T. Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #030

[Intro]
Yeah
Yeah
Young Krizzle
Third coast
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah

[Verse 1]
I woke up like "fuck these niggas man I gotta get mine"
You a hater by all means, there go a line
Ain't no need for new friends or these bickering hoes
'Cus wasn't none of y'all around when I was over the stove
You thinkin' bout dope, I'm thinking too cold
Fingertip froze, I been through the most
Look how it shows, look at these shows
I got to the highs for seeing the lows
You sayin' I changed but really it's growth
Fuck what you know if you ain't a game changer
Ol' commentatin' ass niggas all talk but ain't playin' never
Balled out the bleachers, you get shook if you reachin'
Bought a crib and whip off a beat and a feature
When you finally get this money you see just how they treat ya
When you get it out the mud you come up with some leeches
Never mind that, soon as I left Def Jam I got my shine back
I know they were lookin' at Sha like "why you sign that?"
All the while I was killin' like "go out rhyme that"
They claim they gave me a chance but I can't find that
Fuck it, lesson learned I earned the knowledge
The game's an open road and I needed the mileage
I'm fit for this here ain't no need for a stylist
I know that I'm better but really you bias
'cus you from the same city
As your favorite rapper favorite rapper, I can dig it
And you ain't tryin' to go to Meridian, Mississippi
And kick it, it's cool I spit that country shit worldwide
Let my accent be the reason for the wetness 'tween your girl's thighs
Foreign cars, Forgiato tires, top circumcised
Funny how niggas counted me out but I still multiplied
My worth, maximized that purse
Goyard or Hermes, whichever she want first
The only way I fall off, if there's no gravity on Earth
And even then I'm still amongst the stars
Better that than a game that trades genius for sub-par
Lifestyle for bars, if you didn't have that vouch would you have made it this far?
Imagine my shock when niggas come at my spot
That control shit was cool, but nigga look what I got
Mt. Olympus overlooked, barely spinning, game is rigged
It ain't no winnin' without no budget or no label, shout out to Sway
'Cus at least he'll bring up the fact that I still paved the way
When a lot of them wish radio was "fuck I had something to say"
Not popular though, not popular music
I pray and give thanks, they don't like how I'm moving
But every time I drop a tape they like "peep what he doing"
Then we package it all like I'm the first one to do it
Damn shame, damn shame, damn shame
Hol' up, yeah
Hol' up, hol' up
So imagine what could happen if I up and left
That's a lot of champagne bottles to leave up on the shelf
That's a lot of music droppin', shit that you ain't felt
Or playin' a championship game without a fucking ref
That ain't official, oh your album flopped? Well here's a tissue
There ain't enough streams that I could wish you to get that budget back
Oh, 'cus once you in the red you can't fade to black
'Cus you ain't Jay and ain't no blueprint to pay it back
I know your struggle and you can times that ten nigga because I'm southern
Oh you tired of being rich? I'm sorry for your troubles
But I ain't gon' tell these crate diggin' niggas there's no gold in the rubble
But there's a price to pay for being humble
Shaking hands with niggas that ain't yo friends
A lot of chameleons in disguise do whatever just to blend
It's amazing what a loser will go and do just to win
And all the tattoos can't hide the scales on they skin
I seen it, a game where people promise but don't mean it
And the dumbest motherfucker will make the world think they genius
Selling niggas water claiming it's the blood of Jesus
Although I was too young I probably was safer as a fetus
That's the will of my moms and pops
Instead she pushed me out like "son, go and earn your spot"
Although there's plenty of nooses upon the treetops
I hope you find the strength and will to slip the knots, hol' up
I beat the block in that old school like I never drove through
I heard these niggas falling off, that shit old news
Back to my southern shit, I candy paint the slab
Got some player got some game, you need? you can have
Got the state on my grind, supernova the shine
Flip the screen out, lean out the window, recline
Show the grill, that's metaphor for fuck how they feel
The hate could never stop the champagne icin' on chill
If the champagne should spill on the candy
It symbolize the days I went being broke to door slammin'
I got mine now, made the beats and wrote all of the lines down
My sound is mine and mine alone, how could I leave it behind now?
Hol' up, ay
Hol' up shawty

[Verse 2]
Uh
Hop out the bed and I want me a chip
My flow a chopper, a beam and a clip
Stuffed in the trunk of a car with some thump
Why you jump out the window when there go a cliff?
I'm the ghost of the crack that was stuffed in the hubbas
Born to be king, you was meant for a rubber
I doubled a double cup I'm seeing double
And hut then nigga get the fuck out my huddle
Break, I seen it I seen it I see it clear
Being humble ain't shit when you being feared
I'm an old soul we ain't even peers
Niggas talking tough like I ain't even here
But that's how it go when you do the most
This ain't bout clubs or sellin' dope
I'm talking bout murderin' niggas on wax
And bringing 'em back like I seen a ghost
Fo' do', old dough, here I go Mystikal with the paint
Been bout it, been bout it, 9-5 minded we'll hop out the tank
Count it up, count it up, throw it in the safe I'm livin' in a bank
I come from the country, I know how to work the land
And come back with a mink
Frostbit cold wrist, this ain't nothin' new this some old shit
Barely used to wear it rather buy a mansion
Tossed it to my brother, you can hold this
Dry cleaner my demeanor when it come to benjis, can you fold this?
In the yo whippin' hella dope, that must be where the stove is
Krizzle
Third coast motherfucker
What's happenin'