There’s collard greens, which Big K.R.I.T. is very astute to like…

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[7.33]

Chuck Eddy: Yeah yeah, more collard-green rap — I always have a soft spot for that kinda stuff, but this guy’s neither the first nor most countrified to try it. Fairly propulsive, though, in its monotonal way.
[5]

Michelle Myers: Big K.R.I.T. follows in an established tradition of hip hop auteurs–rapper/producers who create rich, self-contained worlds with their music. On 2010’s K.R.I.T Wuz Here, he combined classic Dirty South beats and workmanlike rapping with rich local flavor. “Country Shit” works as that mixtape’s centerpiece, a vivid portrayal of K.R.I.T.’s Mississippi hometown with plenty of collard greens, trunks banging and kush blunts.
[9]

Hazel Robinson: From that sped-up soul sample to the aggression with which foodstuffs are listed in this, this is proud and angry in a way that probably at least Ludacris doesn’t have a right to be about these things by this point, it’s got a strange sort of power in the way any locality love-letter does and hefty dose of party that should get it sponsored by the Southern states’ tourism boards, if anyone had any sense.
[9]

Anthony Easton: Love this. Wonder if it saw the cock-measuring and psycho-geographic jingoism of recent country (see “Ala-Freakin-Bama”) and how the edge cases moved fairly close to hip hop or fully crossed over (see Colt Ford) and said “fuck it, I am going to back a battle track that says this is our space, this is African American space.” I’m waiting for the Trace Adkins guest on the next track.
[9]

B Michael Payne: I’ve been getting pretty deep into G-Side and Kristmas, so I’ve been calibrated for a significantly less brash version of Southern rap than this song presents. In fact, it sounds kind of like a Yelawolf song without any of the heart. Plus, every time this song ends, Big L comes on and I’m like, “Uhhhh why isn’t rap more like this?”
[5]

Jonathan Bradley: To some extent country rap is like the other kind of country music, a form that innovates by introducing variations around a set of fixed signifying elements. So K.R.I.T. has got his Caddy and his drank, his gray tapes and his trunk thump, his soul food and his crack rocks, and he deploys each of these ideas with the mastery and commitment to form required of any student determined to keep his UGK GPA up. And yet he feels like an average of past greats, with none of the idiosyncrasies that made them exceptional; a collection of signifiers is supposed to be the start point, not the end. But even if he’s not Boosie or early T.I., it works as riding music. Where country shit is concerned, that’s important.
[7]

Michaela Drapes: Love the production, not keen on Big K.R.I.T’s flow. I’ve never been a fan of the languid sound of 90’s Southern hip-hop MCs; I’m much happier when scrambling to keep up with the stylings of slicker tongues. Still, if I had a drop top and a sweet sound system, I’d drive around blasting this one every now and then, just to feel the speakers shake.
[6]

Ian Mathers: The original benefits from being even more compact and relentless than the remix with Luda and Bun B; both of them are entertaining as always, but when it’s just K.R.I.T. going hard over that post-“A Milli” production/loop, “Country Shit” gains a kind of cramped intensity, even when things slow down a bit.
[7]

Josh Langhoff: The trouble with the remix is that Luda and K.R.I.T. don’t sound uncomfortable enough — they’re all joking around, voices dancing nimbly around the beat when nimble dancing is the LAST thing you wanna do in the oppressive swamp coffin that is country heat. (Bun B sounds nimble too, but he is great and impervious to heat) But on the original — let’s say the kick drum is the heat, or at least the pulsing headache you get while you’re staring at the heat rising in waves off your 33-inch (YEAH I SAID IT) rims. K.R.I.T.’s slow flow is at war with the kick drum heat, scraping against it like the metal-on-metal sound FX during the verses, until in the second verse he’s reduced to a bunch of cranky rhetorical questions like “Why is y’all stankin’?!?” You know how often people ask me that every summer? It’s about time my summer jam did the same.
[9]