Big K.R.I.T. - Circulate (Freestyle) lyrics

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Big K.R.I.T. - Circulate (Freestyle) lyrics

[Verse: Big KRIT] Hey, this that round table talk, Godfather speech Jury (?) flashin', toast gla**es to the mashin' Dollars circulatin', haters congregatin' We know it, we focused and waitin', f** 'em I do my dirt in the open, let the folk keep scopin' They can't stop my coastin', not used to this motion I touch nothin' There's no bustin' I'm too important Yea, the king of the fortress n***as is eatin' off the table I set Before dessert come out, eliminating the threat High side on the Jet, like I finally made it Can't have your cake and eat it, so I'm whoppin' the baker Send him up to his maker, this is nothin' I savor Ask God to forgive me... hol' up, I might see him later Or some chick I f** way back hate that I'm the boss now n***a want some strikes and heard I'm the one to toss now Plus you gotta watch out for your circle Best friend from way back when be the n***a that'll murk ya Sleepless nights is normal now No more blunts, cuban cigars, I'm formal now Let's get it Never force the pieces till they ridged Cause that's when the Feds start indictment business Payoffs keep the weight off, till you go legit Buy land, flip houses, to clean up sh** I'm talkin' Miami loungin', skatin' away free But somethings in life just ain't meant for me I hustle till the sun up The hardest thing to do when you down is come up Get cars slippin' at a stoplight, gun up Keep a hurter (?) close if a n***a try to run up Real n***as out here tryin' to make this money If they won't hand it to me, I'mma take this money Sometimes I hate this money Hey, I'mma bully in the school of life I went from no dough to polos and rockin' red ice Rubies, Louie, I got that for my b**h Bags, rags, tags, to ball and sh** I don't think these n***as hear me though I'm on that put you on a cereal box sh** See men block sh** Hang you off a buildin' till you show me the spot sh** Whats the combination when they leavin' and when do they drop sh** Get money n***a, f** what they talkin' 'bout Last n***a comin' in, the only n***a walkin' out Krizzle! [Outro:] Hey phone tall (?) no cash sh** at the end of this one They say n***a from Mississippi ain't got no lyrical content And they sayin' the South ain't hip hop You got me f**ed up Get money n***a!