Real Boston Richey - Kick Flavor Lyrics

Huh
(DDot cold as a motherf*cker, on God) yeah
Huh
Yeah, bitch, huh, uh, uh
Yeah
Yeah, hold on
Come on, bring it in
Alright, right there, turn it up
Yeah, hold on, get like this
Brrt, ooh

Kick flavor, I'm the shit, ain't I?
Used to post up on the block with a big banger
Pissy jit, I done growed up, now I'm the shit, ain't I?
Bought the bitch a car and bought her bags, but can't shit change her
Finally done ran it up, now I'm tryna get a crib in Coral Gables
Super piped up, get stupid, I'll bring a table, set the table
I seen a nigga slimin' a nigga he grew up with just for the paper
Me and my brother, we locked forever, this shit ain't Cain and Abel, uh

I done seen a nigga I love call the tip line
My dog cuffed a ho, but when it came to my bitch, we flipped mine
Seen a nigga do a drill, then pulled up and tried to switch irons
Me and you, we ain't the same, my opps, I done killed mines
So what you think I'ma do 'bout my baby, you abort mines?
Leave the club drunk, come home, eat it like a pork rind
They see this whip I'm ridin' in, they can't afford mine
I only'll claim a bad bitch, none of these whores mines
Mmm, shit I think I want the Virgil handbag
I'm on niggas' tops, same place where the bitch lace at
All them niggas that slept on me, pussy-nigga, this the payback
Poppin' too much shit in the city, same place I caught my case at
Different nigga, I still catch plays where I f*ckin' lay at
The feds listenin', I take that back, they say I shouldn't even say that
I hit the hood, I ask them young niggas what the f*ck is payback?
I'm in MIA with a Coke-bottle-shape bitch, like where your waist at?
A different type of nigga
Real rich nigga and I'm playin' with different type of figures
A different type of head 'cause I'm totin' a different type of pistol
Hold on, ain't no rap nigga, I go by a different type of system, uh
Deray don't answer, I call my mama phone like, "Mom, where Ray at?"
Nigga ain't swingin' the strap the right way, nigga, I pull up and take that
I told that bitch I was on the edge, not talkin' where my tape at
Caught me down, my bitch cheated on me, I took her straight back
Came through, sprayed the ghost gun, tell them crackers to trace that
I been a big blood, you could pull up, ask K Stacks
Baby girl, your pussy good, why would you waste that?
Waste that pussy on a broke nigga, it's hard to face that

Kick flavor, I'm the shit, ain't I?
Used to post up on the block with a big banger
Pissy jit, I done growed up, now I'm the shit, ain't I?
Bought the bitch a car and bought her bags, but can't shit change her
Finally done ran it up, now I'm tryna get a crib in Coral Gables
Super piped up, get stupid, I'll bring a table, set the table
I seen a nigga slimin' a nigga he grew up with just for the paper
Me and my brother, we locked forever, this shit ain't Cain and Abel

(DDot cold as a motherf*cker, on God)