Kodak Black — Real Nigga Files

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Текст Kodak Black — Real Nigga Files

*Police sirens*
Real nigga files (hell yeah)
Project files (yes sir)
(everything 1k dawg)
Yeah (institution, for real man)
(you gotta stand firm, dawg, you gotta stay solid)
Project baby two, comin’ out soon (for real)
(look, Kodak, Kodak)
Aye man, nigga got this lil burden off my back, dawg (for real)
Time to celebrate (weight off a niggas shoulders)
(got my feet back on the ground a lil bit)

Look, I’ve been in this shit for a lil minute, I’m gettin’ lonely now
Constant conversations with my lady, she gon’ hold it down
My nigga, he just got out of the gram, he got locked up again
I be feelin’ like it’s my fault that he right back in
He just wanted a lil money, and I knew a way how
I told him to pack his bags, we goin’ out of town
And shit, I knew the best option for us to stay down
But fuck all that, we young niggas, we need it right now, man
Shit get crazy, when you in these types of places
Shit don’t even feel the same no more, everybody changin’
It’s amazin’, when you make it, made it out your situation
And surprise everybody, you should see these niggas faces
I done took a lot of losses
I done caught a lot of cases
Had to cut my nigga off, man I just couldn’t shake it
Used to treat him like a brother, but that nigga so shady
I hate it, but this the life of a project baby
I’m here, and I’m plannin’ on blowin’ this year
Disappear, into spirit, wrist shine like chandelier
They tellin’ lies like Pinocchio, they don’t even know me though
But they wanna ride for me, they ain’t even rode before
Rollin’ like a roller-coast, backwood, I’m rollin’ dope
Told my future bright, yesterday I read my horoscope
I remember, I was in a jam, they said «it’s over for»
Young nigga, addicted to them bands, I’m bout to overdose
Institution, this that project music
Paper chase, on the interstate, stick and movin’
Throwin’ rocks at the chain gang
Out here tryna slang Caine
Asked God to forgive a nigga, but I just do the same thing
Cause I’m still on the same shit
And I’m still with the same clique
My girl is still around with me
I’m still with the same bitch
I’m still on the same strip
I’m still on the same corner
Now a young nigga smokin’ crip
Remember I used to slang zona
I get in the booth and spit that fire, I put that flame on you
Rollin’ off a monkey girl, come let me put this thing on you
Your niggas ain’t your niggas, catch a charge and they gon’ sing on you
They gon’ turn the state on you
Switch, and put the blame on you
Now you want this head, don’t you?
Now you wan’t em dead, don’t you?
I will pop a chance on em
Could of went fed on em
Back on my feet, my muscle up, it’s time to flex on em
If a nigga slippin’ with that pack, I go finesse, homie
(finesse homie, finesse homie)
*Police sirens*