Текст Kodak Black – Down N Out (Freestyle)

And no this not my beat
I swear to god (project baby)

Yea I’m young and from the projects
Stolen cars, but I’m gettin money now, so I bought a jet
She want me to love her
Eat that pussy good
Slide it in her ass
But I’m not familiar with that
I’m not the student at the front seat of the class
Teachers pet a class clown, cuz I ain’t go to class
Why go to school I know all I need to know and I’m gettin cash for gold money, so why should I pass now?
I’m sitting on a crate, chillin in the shade
Fresh cut, kodak fade, on my corner with them thangs
Come and getcho a pillow sack 5 for 20, I got nicks and dimes, whatcho want my zone high grade
She wit you, fade away
Money come everyday
You can get it anyway
See I’m gettin it everyway
Lil kodak, silly me I’m Mr. K
Where is my K
Super cold n save the day
I keep me fucking all these hoes
And I cant be making friends, imma be you foes
You don’t know, they be hatin on the low
I’m that lil nigga from the know
That lil zone

I’ll be polo to the floor
Boy don’t act like you don’t know
I came up shootin dice by the dope hole
Throwing looks to the youngest nigga I hear post it on the stove
Snatchin chains I fell in love with that gold
She be shiny, she so pretty, boy I love that hoe
My people be tryna tell me leave the streets alone
But they see I just wont listen, they say just let him go
They got me at runnin back and now I’m running them back
And koot say when I get older ill be running the sack
I’m that rachet chick baker rat maniac wheres that, pockets fat, hit my first slit I don’t know how to act
Them crackers say I look like lil boosie
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
Get you’ll be fine, get nervous, I can’t handle it
Project baby and you know that I am him
My nigga found me, he was wit me shootin in the gym
I was settin him up for 3s, but I was scoring more then him
He wanted to be the team, grabbed my balls straight off the rim
My main bitch be trippin
She not my main, but the only reason she my main, cuz I don’t got no other bitches
I be stolo, slidin foreign she be nervous when she in it
I be drivin on the molly’s
I be rollin like a philly
Ghetto child post it wit that 9 like ibaka
Ugly corner jet forty cal hit you like aaron locker
Lil nigga, big ole pistol, I can’t shoot no choppa
Rock designer fabric, I’m proud of florida like harry potta