Down N Out Lyrics

Down N Out 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 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
Teacher’s pet, a class clown cause I ain’t go to class
Why go to school? I know all I need to know
And I’m gettin’ Caspar gold money so why should I pass 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**kin’ 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 nigga 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 nigga 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 nigga 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**ch be trippin’
She not my main, but the only reason she my main cause I ain’t got no other b**ches
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 nigga big old pistol, I can’t shoot no chopper
Rock designer, Ferragamo, Prada fly like Harry Potter