J.I.D. – General (Live)

[Intro]
Uh
Fuckin’ wisdom tooth is killin’ me
The fuck
Uh, ahem

[Verse 1]
Check, anybody can see the kid got it
I see niggas ignore it so I feel a way about it
From rapping in that truck with bolts on and rolling blunts
Bagging a couple bitches and fucking them all at once
Friday night lights, I was catching and dropping punts
Thinking about rapping, I could be J.I.D or like Chris Johnson
My thumbs keep strumming kinda like the Mumford & Sons
Mommy went dumb when she got that call I had got caught
Kicked out of college for tongues, niggas be talking
I wasn’t even on camera, just hit the lick with some amateurs
Glad we did that, now I’m flying to Los Angeles with a 8th in my pre-rolls
Call that shit a tarantula
Tarantino on your big screen, ho
Slave man, South East Coast, J.I.D or DiCap Leo
Set it off, my big sis reminded me of Cleo
And my brothers is killers you might see on Nat Geo’
You gotta chill cause niggas can get they cap peeled
I keep that 40 like I’m Pat Tillman
They sent my nigga up the hill, yea they jack jill’d ’em
And a million other black children
Let’s crack the seal, I’m spillin’

[Hook]
Alright, I feel amazing, I can feel the haters, do something
I ain’t finna fade ya, I ain’t got a taser, shoot something
Niggas talkin’ crazy, wipe the little baby, too funny
Pull up on ya, had a crew coming, take a deuce on ya, hold up

[Verse 2]
Looking for it in the night time
I been looking for it all day
Imma get it at the right time
Watch em fuck with me the long way
Watch a nigga at the bike whip
Hit the buyer with the stone face
Greenbriar with the whole case
Bust it down and flood the whole state
Bitches know when that work good
Anna Mae eat the whole cake
We ain’t even gotta role play
Had to get it out the bowl way
Kill shit, OJ, No way, Jose, Slo-Mo, okay
I don’t do this shit at your pace
I ain’t here to do it your way
And I’m coming thru the ceiling, thru the floor, back and front door way
You do not want war, I swear, I swore on your grave
I been on my shit since like 6th, 5th, and 4th grade—wait
Even before grades, going to my brother court dates
And I asked my momma bout what he did but they’d never tell me
Then I figured he killed a nigga or got caught for some dope he selling
Kinda close but no cigarillo, he was armored up, that’s a armadillo
My pops did time in the military and he taught us how to disarm a nigga
See the boys, you better warn a nigga but JID prolly got warrants, nigga
Like North Carolina or South Carolina, got the hideout in like Florence, nigga
Swear your raps so borin’, nigga
Then you say you trap—you be lyin’, nigga
I don’t fuck with none of y’all happy trappers
Better grab and strap, people dyin’, nigga, Lord
Sorry we making all the noise
But you ain’t have to call the boys
Some shit you just can’t avoid
Dumb shit, coolin’ with the squad

[Outro]

Kodak Black – Conscience Lyrics

[Intro: Kodak Black]
Yeah, Project Baby
These streets took my conscience
Blee
Sniper Gang
These streets took my conscience

[Verse 1: Kodak Black]
Yeah, everybody with me on that same thang
I don’t gang-bang but I bang bang
I pull up to the club, I got on eight chains
Took that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main

[Verse 2: Future]
Brown liquor made my dawg insane
Booted up a geek, it’s the same thang
Fish scale or molly, it’s the same name
Murder by the stains, we stain your claim
The big Patek face cost ten chains
Took your bitch out to eat on a private plane
Real talk, 150 when it’s plain Jane
Drop the junk behind the dumpster for some cocaine

[Verse 3: Kodak Black]
Ayy, free my nigga coo, he in the chain gang
Chris Johnson, I swear for God I drop the twenty-eight
I told my nigga be fool, he put a potato on a barrel
I kick lil’ dumbass out my crib, say she want Chanel
I bought that bitch a wig ’cause she ain’t got no hair
I sent that poor ass hoe a Uber ’cause she ain’t got no whip
Thirty golds in my mouth like I’m Stephen Curry
Thirty clip in my Glock ’cause I’m a damn Warrior

[Verse 4: Future]
Streets left me scarred, ain’t no worries
Rack my money up in a hurry
Thirteen strippers, James Harden
Money make you greedy when you starving
Monisha, Tamica, they vouching
Before I had anything, I was saucing
Before I had that Bentley truck, I was saucing
All these hitters, yeah, I pray you never cross them

[Verse 5: Kodak Black]
She say she brand new, I swear I want the old her
Eighteen hunded, I got more stories than a author
I’m credit card swipin’ at the Chase Bank (ey)
Me and Future gang gang, same thang
I check your temperature, nigga, is you hot or cold?
Like a state trooper, I make my money on the road
I remember hittin’ houses, nigga, cash 4 gold
These streets made me lose my conscience, took a nigga soul

[Verse 6: Future]
These streets took all my soul from me
Tried to leave me in the cold
These streets took my conscience from me
Now tough love is all I show
I know my niggas got love for me
And they filling up they nose
I know my Levi got love for me
She just want everybody to know

[Verse 7: Kodak Black]
I know my niggas, they be missin’ me
So I be posted on the straw
I don’t even care about how much cash I see
I’m always gon’ be in the know
I ran out of money, then they switch lanes
I ran it back up, then I switch lanes
In a brand new Range, diamond colored candy cane
I bought a brand new K, I can’t wait to let it spray
I’m sorry mom to bring you through so much pain
I said I’m sorry mom, I ain’t mean for it to be this way
Ayy fuck it, bitch, I’m here, I got diamond rings
All the finer things, designer jeans, I’m gettin’ paid

[Outro: Kodak Black]
These streets took my conscience
All the finer things, designer jeans, I’m getting paid
These streets took my conscience
All the finer things, designer jeans, I’m getting paid
All the finer things, designer jeans, I’m getting paid
All the finer things, designer jeans, I’m getting paid