Kodak Black - Down N Out (Freestyle) lyrics

Yeah I’m that youngin from the projects Stolen cars, but I’m gettin’ money now, so I bought a Jag She want me to love her, eat that p**y good Slide it in her a**, but I’m not familiar with that I’m not the student at the front seat of the cla** Teacher’s pet, a cla** clown cause I ain’t go to cla** Why go to school? I know all I need to know And I’m gettin’ Caspar gold money so why should I pa** now I’m sittin’ on a crate chillin’ in the shade Fresh cut, Kodak fade On my corner with them thangs Come get you a pillow sack 5 for 20 I got nicks and dimes What you want? Zone or high grade? Shoot it you fade away Money come every day You can get it anyway See I’m gettin’ it every way Lil Kodak Salute me I’m Mr. K Where is my cake? Super cold [?] I can’t be f**in’ all these hoes And I can’t be makin’ friends Don’t be them foes you don’t know they hatin’ on the low I’m that lil n***a from the ‘Noya That lil zo I be Polo to the floor Boy, don’t act like you don’t know I came up shootin’ dice by the dope hole Throwin’ licks, the youngest n***a out here posted on the scroll Snatchin’ chains, I fell in love with that gold She be shinin’, she’s so pretty Boy, I love that hoe My people be tryna tell me leave the streets alone But they see I just won’t listen They say “just let him go” They got me at running back and now I’m runnin’ them back And Coupe say when I get older I be runnin’ the sac I’m that ratchet jay baker rap maniac Where’s that? Pockets fat Hit my first lick I don’t know how to act New cracker say I look like lil Boosie And plus I rock the Boosie They call me Boosie, they say I’m so easy to catch They say I’m ADHD, schizophrenic My pistol panic, it just be firing Get nervous, I can’t handle it Project Baby, and you know that I am him My n***a found me, he was with me shootin’ in the gym I was settin’ him up for 3’s, but I was scorin’ more than him He wanted to be the team, grabbed my ball straight off the rim My main b**h be trippin’ She not my main, but the only reason she my main cause I ain’t got no other b**hes I be stolo slidin’ foreign She be nervous when she in it I be drivin’ on the mollys, I be rollin like a filly Ghetto child, posted with that 9 like Ibaka Ugly corner jet, 40 cal hit you like [?] Lil n***a big old pistol, I can’t shoot no chopper Rock designer, Ferragamo, Prada fly like Harry Potter