I don’t do no flaggin’, y’all know that
Young nigga, I got old cash
I got old cash and that’s so sad
I got Prada on my ho ass, yeah
From the Golden Acres projects, I was a bad lil’ kid
I want my baby to do my adlibs, that was my last bid
JG Wentworth, need my cash big, just came from rags to riches
Too much Snipers in the masjid, you smell like catfish
Mama had heard me on the radio, then she start sheddin’ tears
Remember when we ain’t have no ceiling fan, now we got chandelier
Never sweat, I’m rockin’ cashmere, I’m fuckin’ a cashier
Say I made so much money last year, I ain’t a—
Got helicopter on my ho ear, you niggas so weird
Tell my son to bring me a cold beer, don’t touch my bold lil’ pill
I changed my mind, okay, go grab the pills, yeah, yeah
White bitch bald-head, look like Britney Spears, yeah, yeah
I be snipin’, baby, John Deere, don’t get your dog killed
Got the jack delivered to the crib, hey, Cardi B, grab the mirror
I be flippin’ when I’m hittin’ moves and scrapin’ residue
On them jiggas, call me jiggaboo, I fuck ’round, wreck the coupe
Smokin’ flakka, you a nini-poo, ayy, Psycho, pass the boot
I don’t do no flaggin’, nigga, I been the truth, I keep mine, pack a suit
Gettin’ this chicken, cock-a-doodle-doo, cock it, then you shoot
I’m in the club boppin’ with the crew, rockin’ with the woo
Got the whole Dania in the loop, Duval in cahoots
You my favorite swoop, you my fave, you my favorite swoop
Mulsanne baby blue, let me find out you be savin’ boo
Told the bitch, “You better not cheat on me,” got 9 millimeter on me
MOB, I’m a big ol’ Z, L-M-N-O-P
Niggas be steady be talkin’ what they gon’ do, okay, we gon’ see
He was always a bad-ass project baby
You know what I mean? He was bad as fuck
But he had a talent
I don’t even know that he know how much talent he had at the time because he was young
You know what I mean? He was a jit, he was like twelve, thirteen
But when you hear his music, you like, “What the fuck?” He been here before
You know what I mean? He been here before, he special
And he was a Black-ass nigga too, like me
So I’m like damn
His name Kodak, he was J-Black, then I say, “Naw, his name Kodak”
Shit, he probably could be bigger than Michael Jackson
Probably, and Michael Jordan, be bigger than Michael
Ayy, I don’t know why niggas don’t like Kodak, like
Nigga, you don’t much know the nigga, how you don’t like the nigga? Like
For real, though
We from the projects, we Haitians, we’re poor
We’re, we just comin’ up, know what I’m talkin’ ’bout?
Like, real-nigga shit, though, like, this 40 shit, know what I’m talkin’ ’bout?
Like, we straight from the projects, Section 8 house
Nigga, we grew up where roaches at
Know what I’m talkin’ ’bout?
Now our mamas, they learnin’ English and shit
This shit comin’ in good
This shit comin’ in real good
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