Chris Carmouche - Gossip lyrics

[Hook: Big Krit] n***as wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip n***as wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip n***as wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip [Verse 1: Big Boi] No introductions needed boy just call me the undefeated (BIG) And underneath this Georgia drawl, I know I can't be seen with Bifocals because my vocals are cla**ic Like Coca Cola when they had c**aine in the package I meant to say blow in the ingredients I went to the mall today and all the n***as had on smediums Little bitty a** clothes Like Dancing with the Stars without the judges or the dance flo' Oh and n***as 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 f** And ain't no keeping up, I'm balls deep and them ain't deep enough Fat stacks, Cadillac k**er, cataract prescription filler I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles, the city of lost angels A connoisseur of cannabis and from Atlanta b**h We never shop with strangers, no matter what strain they slanging Some of the game rules done changed n***as is out here talking like a co*katoo to a cop or two Now they watching you and your 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, uh I'll have you tripping like you smoking furl Playa my hoes don't talk, anybody gon' tell your girl [Verse 3: Big K.R.I.T.] Okay, now n***as wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip Cause they p**y wasn't hitting and they lip was super sloppy s** a, duck a mothaf**a, rims chop, Lorena Bobbit 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 sk**et with some chicken grease in it Country boy, I'm country raised, from the belly to the grave Word to pimp nobody tripping cause the money already made, Krizzle [Hook x2] [Verse 4: Bun B] Man, I hate it all the time, I got haters in my biz Talking bout the trill but don't know what the f** it is Mothaf**as nowadays are seriously sorry Thinking that the key to life is putting your business on Maury You say you rocking Mauri but that motherf**er Rockport Always talking bout you bust it but your Glock short I know the truth so ain't no need in your lying Bullsh** ain't working, ain't no need in your trying Dying to be the n***a that's spied in the telescope Crime with trilla n***as, put iron to your belly folks Telling them tall tales, fibs, and humdangers Save it for Jeremy Kyle, Steve, or Jerry Spranger Buzzing like a bee, tryna stick me with your stanger You can get the middle, what middle, the finger Stick it in your a** and let it linger No h*mo and hit the high note like and R&B singer on promo