Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big K.R.I.T.
Big K.R.I.T.
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Justin Scott
Justin Scott
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Big K.R.I.T.
Big K.R.I.T.
Producer
Ralph Cacciurri
Ralph Cacciurri
Recording Engineer
Andrew Rosen
Andrew Rosen
Assistant Recording Engineer
caleb trice
caleb trice
Assistant Recording Engineer
Tony Rey
Tony Rey
Mixing Engineer
Kevin Williams
Kevin Williams
Assistant Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
Grew up on the country side of town
[Verse 2]
Am I crooked, my ****?
Do it for the south, y'all know
Born and raised where the rebel flag hang from the slaves
Grew up where y'all **** won't go
Rep that, rep that shit like I own it
I did it big for my fam and my homies
I got the biggest house on my block, foreign with the drop
For the times I was out here homeless, God flow
Time and time again, I tried to tell these ****
Yo, what I say to these ****?
Re-rock on tap dance, do whatever for a sack
Give a lap dance bitch ass ****
B Bop flow coke up
25 lighters on my dresser, ain't shit changed
Rolling in the hemp's image of me pedaling like a stretcher
So clean you think might I been selling cocaine
Light at the end of the tunnel
When you're flexing it's had to be humble
Talking fourth down, can't throw the ball to Def Jam
'Cause he might fumble
Kick that south flow that you can't get
Try to fuck the world but my dick won't fit
My bitch like, K.R.I.T., motherfucking feelings
You wanna be king, gotta claim that shit
I'm talking 'bout off with they heads
When you put on a mink, gotta creep down stairs
When you come from the country
Your feet on the snakes, I make clothes out of bales
I ain't playing no games
I leave with the future, you follow these lames
I embody the South, the swing, the grain
The trunk with the bang, the gold in they mouth
[Verse 3]
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
Grew up on the country side of town
[Verse 4]
Ain't no love in the coliseum
This shit here been a bloodsport
Keep what you kill, fuck if the live
'Cause everybody out here cutthroat
I've been quietly waiting
Deep in my dungeon, my stomach was rumbling, my belly was aching
Everybody wanna see a monster
Till they see the monster, the monster holla out, what's shaking?
I know what you thinking, this **** shit must not be stankin'
He must not know better at all
Titans collide on the Zeus to survive
If not me bitch, who the fuck you gone call?
To rain from the mountain tops
Still blood stains on the leaves
I don't do it for the blog spot comment
Box, I do it for the OG's
And them country folk that can't talk that shit
This ain't your curb, don't walk that bitch
This ain't your porch, so keep off that shit
Go find a cliff and jump off that bitch
If you don't think that I'm king
I done proved them wrong like twice, can't stop my flight
I could murder your favorite rapper
And all I get is, no way a Mississippi **** really that nice
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
I said it six times 'cause it's my pleasure
Say it one more time just for good measure, fuck
Raised by the king that before me
Slowly crept up and still paid dues
I embody the South, the swing, the bang
The soul and the pain and the blues
[Verse 5]
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
Grew up on the country side of town
Now I'm balling under city lights
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
King of the south, king of the south, king of the south
Grew up on the country side of town
Written by: Justin Scott
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out