[{"id":35469974,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"Country Shit","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: Country Shit\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":10675495,"name":"Big K.R.I.T. - Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Big K.R.I.T. - Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"Return Of 4eva","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Big K.R.I.T. - Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: Return Of 4eva\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":11553512,"name":"Country Shit (remix)","trackName":"Country Shit (remix)","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T. feat. Ludacris & Bun B","albumName":"ReturnOf4Eva","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (remix)\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T. feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  album: ReturnOf4Eva\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":27162284,"name":"Country Shit (remix)","trackName":"Country Shit (remix)","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T. feat. Ludacris & Bun B","albumName":"ReturnOf4Eva","duration":249.521633,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (remix)\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T. feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  album: ReturnOf4Eva\n  duration_ms: 249522\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":6811639,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"Return Of 4eva","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) Feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: Return Of 4eva\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":9292633,"name":"Country Shit (remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Country Shit (remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"ReturnOf4Eva","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: ReturnOf4Eva\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":14375858,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) Ft. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) Ft. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"ReturnOf4Eva","duration":242.4227,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) Ft. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: ReturnOf4Eva\n  duration_ms: 242423\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":15690202,"name":"Country Shit (feat. Ludacris & Bun B) [Remix]","trackName":"Country Shit (feat. Ludacris & Bun B) [Remix]","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"ReturnOf4Eva","duration":242.442449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (feat. Ludacris & Bun B) [Remix]\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: ReturnOf4Eva\n  duration_ms: 242442\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":21854310,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"Return Of 4 Eva","duration":242.4227,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) feat. Ludacris & Bun B\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: Return Of 4 Eva\n  duration_ms: 242423\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":9642485,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) (feat. Ludacris & Bun B)","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) (feat. Ludacris & Bun B)","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"R4 The Prequel","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) (feat. Ludacris & Bun B)\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: R4 The Prequel\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"},{"id":35952324,"name":"Country Shit (Remix) (Feat. Ludacris & Bun B)","trackName":"Country Shit (Remix) (Feat. Ludacris & Bun B)","artistName":"Big K.R.I.T.","albumName":"Return Of 4Eva (Official)","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\nI'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\nLet me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\nIf you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\nYour partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\nIn Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\nMy truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\nNo insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\nI might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\nWe gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\nAnd I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\nOn that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\nThat my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nI told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\nM-I-crooked letter, hoe\nWho you know do it better, folk?\nPull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\nKeep a parachute for this altitude\n'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\nMay Day, hollering out payday\nKnockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\nPros get wet as fuck when I speak\nSouthern drawl, it's just the way it be\nHeavy like sumo, numero uno\nPourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\nPimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\nOuter space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\nBitch, I'm UGK influenced\nSlow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\nThat forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\nReturn of 4eva, I thought you knew it\nCountry shit, that's all I see\nThat's all I know, that's all I feel\nThat's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit\n\nCandy painted 'Lac Biarritz\nSitting on 24's - Vogue\nPull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\nIt ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\nTo send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\nThis Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\nRoll with trues and keep girls in twos\nBoy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\nSee, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\nI know all about these street games\nBut the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\nSo she can't lie a'bout what she bring\nI'm certified like USDA\nRepresenting Texas, straight up out the PA\nGraduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\nRight under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\nAnything we say, take it as law, nigga\nWhen I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\nTalk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\nLike I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\nNo flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\nAsk anybody here who running this shit\nIt's Big Bun in this bitch\n\nLet me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\nMuddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\nLet me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\nCandied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nLet me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\nCountry-country shit","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.80] Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n[00:10.67] I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n[00:13.73] Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n[00:18.51] If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n[00:22.27] Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n[00:26.05] In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n[00:29.72] 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n[00:33.30] My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n[00:36.95] No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n[00:40.71] I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n[00:44.37] We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n[00:48.21] And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n[00:51.96] On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n[00:55.58] That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n[00:58.59] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[01:02.47] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[01:05.90] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[01:09.23] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[01:13.51] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:17.01] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:21.08] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:24.50] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[01:28.35] Country-country shit\n[01:29.15] I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n[01:33.35] M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n[01:35.25] Who you know do it better, folk?\n[01:37.08] Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n[01:41.02] Keep a parachute for this altitude\n[01:42.62] 'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n[01:44.73] May Day, hollering out payday\n[01:46.28] Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n[01:47.83] Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n[01:49.90] Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n[01:51.52] Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n[01:53.83] Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n[01:55.48] Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n[01:57.37] Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n[01:59.95] Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n[02:01.59] Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n[02:04.53] That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n[02:07.47] Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n[02:08.96] Country shit, that's all I see\n[02:11.16] That's all I know, that's all I feel\n[02:12.64] That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n[02:13.75] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[02:17.54] Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[02:20.70] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[02:23.97] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[02:28.17] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:31.81] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:35.58] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:39.66] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[02:43.41] Country-country shit\n[02:44.93] Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n[02:46.51] Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n[02:48.17] Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n[02:50.29] It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n[02:52.19] To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n[02:53.99] This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n[02:55.82] Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n[02:57.63] Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n[02:59.78] See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n[03:01.55] I know all about these street games\n[03:03.44] But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n[03:05.00] So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n[03:07.19] I'm certified like USDA\n[03:09.02] Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n[03:10.88] Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n[03:12.95] Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n[03:14.52] Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n[03:16.91] When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n[03:18.72] Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n[03:20.39] Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n[03:22.47] No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n[03:26.45] Ask anybody here who running this shit\n[03:28.04] It's Big Bun in this bitch\n[03:29.01] Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n[03:32.35] Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n[03:35.50] Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n[03:38.98] Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n[03:43.16] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:46.98] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:50.64] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:54.38] Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n[03:58.32] Country-country shit\n[04:00.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Country Shit (Remix) (Feat. Ludacris & Bun B)\n  artist: Big K.R.I.T.\n  album: Return Of 4Eva (Official)\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  start_ms: 6800\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 13730\n- text: Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  start_ms: 13730\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 22270\n- text: Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  start_ms: 22270\n  end_ms: 26050\n- text: In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n  start_ms: 26050\n  end_ms: 29720\n- text: 10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  start_ms: 29720\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 40710\n- text: I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n  start_ms: 40710\n  end_ms: 44370\n- text: We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  start_ms: 44370\n  end_ms: 48210\n- text: And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  start_ms: 48210\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58590\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 58590\n  end_ms: 62470\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 62470\n  end_ms: 65900\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 65900\n  end_ms: 69230\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 69230\n  end_ms: 73510\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 73510\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 81080\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 81080\n  end_ms: 84500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 84500\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95250\n- text: Who you know do it better, folk?\n  start_ms: 95250\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: 'Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine'\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 101020\n- text: Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  start_ms: 101020\n  end_ms: 102620\n- text: '''Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe'\n  start_ms: 102620\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: May Day, hollering out payday\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 106280\n- text: Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  start_ms: 106280\n  end_ms: 107830\n- text: Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  start_ms: 107830\n  end_ms: 109900\n- text: Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  start_ms: 109900\n  end_ms: 111520\n- text: Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  start_ms: 111520\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119950\n- text: Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  start_ms: 119950\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127470\n- text: Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  start_ms: 127470\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: Country shit, that's all I see\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 140700\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 140700\n  end_ms: 143970\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 143970\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 155580\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 155580\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 163410\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 163410\n  end_ms: 164930\n- text: Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  start_ms: 164930\n  end_ms: 166510\n- text: Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  start_ms: 166510\n  end_ms: 168170\n- text: Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  start_ms: 168170\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172190\n- text: To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  start_ms: 172190\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177630\n- text: Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n  start_ms: 177630\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 181550\n- text: I know all about these street games\n  start_ms: 181550\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 187190\n- text: I'm certified like USDA\n  start_ms: 187190\n  end_ms: 189020\n- text: Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  start_ms: 189020\n  end_ms: 190880\n- text: Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  start_ms: 190880\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 194520\n- text: Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  start_ms: 194520\n  end_ms: 196910\n- text: When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  start_ms: 196910\n  end_ms: 198720\n- text: Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  start_ms: 198720\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202470\n- text: No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  start_ms: 202470\n  end_ms: 206450\n- text: Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  start_ms: 206450\n  end_ms: 208040\n- text: It's Big Bun in this bitch\n  start_ms: 208040\n  end_ms: 209010\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  start_ms: 209010\n  end_ms: 212350\n- text: Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  start_ms: 212350\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 223160\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 223160\n  end_ms: 226980\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 226980\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 238320\n- text: Country-country shit\n  start_ms: 238320\n  end_ms: 240650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 240650\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I've been waiting to tell them a'bout this country shit\n  I'ma learn ya! You ready? Luda!\n\n  Let me tell you a'bout these old-school Chevys, Cadillacs, SS Impalas\n  If you smoking then we got more sacks than Troy Polamalu\n  Your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys\n  In Atlanta, we get that paper, can you haters say \"cheese\"?\n\n  10,000 watt amps, six 15-inch kickers\n  My truck bumpin' like injecting ass-shots, like a stripper\n  No insurance on these whips, tags all outdated\n  I might not be shit to you, but my momma thinks I made it\n\n  We gon' ball 'til we fall, Lord this Conjure get us wasted\n  And I never drink that white, all my women think I'm racist\n  On that brown with the twist, tell these hoes to reminisce\n  That my name is Ludacris and I'm like, bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  I told 'em, \"Aw, man, hold up, country is what country does\"\n  M-I-crooked letter, hoe\n  Who you know do it better, folk?\n  Pull up, hop out: clean, in my old-school time machine\n  Keep a parachute for this altitude\n  'Cause when you riding this high, make it hard to breathe\n\n  May Day, hollering out payday\n  Knockin' pictures off the wall when I creep\n  Pros get wet as fuck when I speak\n  Southern drawl, it's just the way it be\n  Heavy like sumo, numero uno\n  Pourin' up brown, she sipping on Nuvo\n  Pimpin' so cold, never trick on a hoe\n  Outer space with the flow like I'm living on Pluto, you know\n\n  Bitch, I'm UGK influenced\n  Slow it down, chop, chop and screw it for the folk in Texas\n  That forever reckon with the styrofoam cup and the purple fluid\n  Return of 4eva, I thought you knew it\n  Country shit, that's all I see\n  That's all I know, that's all I feel\n  That's all I am, that's all I'll be\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty, pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n\n  Candy painted 'Lac Biarritz\n  Sitting on 24's - Vogue\n  Pull up on my scene and I mack your bitch\n  It ain't hard to tell, I suppose she chose\n  To send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes\n  This Charlie Sheen pimping too big to lose\n  Roll with trues and keep girls in twos\n  Boy, you must've heard wrong, you abit confused\n\n  See, I'm the big brother of Sweet James\n  I know all about these street games\n  But the trick gon' pay, the chick gon' say\n  So she can't lie a'bout what she bring\n  I'm certified like USDA\n  Representing Texas, straight up out the PA\n  Graduated the School of Hard Knocks with a BA\n  Right under the nose of the Vice and the DA\n\n  Anything we say, take it as law, nigga\n  When I'm in the booth, no rubber, I'm raw, nigga\n  Talk down get bust in your jaw, nigga\n  Like I'm your pa, run go tell your ma, nigga\n  No flaw nigga, 100% old school, no glass house, I'm under the tint\n  Ask anybody here who running this shit\n  It's Big Bun in this bitch\n\n  Let me tell you 'bout this super fly, dirty-dirty, third coast\n  Muddy water, shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna\n  Let me tell you 'bout this, old school, pourin' lean\n  Candied yams and collard greens, pocket fulla stones riding clean\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Let me tell you 'bout this country shit, country-country shit\n  Country-country shit\n"}]