Kick Flavor Lyrics – Real Boston Richey

Read the full Kick Flavor lyrics by Real Boston Richey along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Real Boston Richey’s music, you can also explore Bring Dat P and Carti, two other songs by Real Boston Richey.

[Intro]
Huh
(DDot cold as a motherfu*ker, on God), yeah
Huh
Yeah, b!tch, 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

[Chorus]
Kick flavor, I’m the s*it, ain’t I?
Used to post up on the block with a big banger
Pissy jit, I done growed up, now I’m the s*it, ain’t I?
Bought the b!tch a car and bought her bags, but can’t s*it 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 n!gga sliming a n!gga he grew up with just for the paper
Me and my brother, we locked forever, this s*it ain’t Cain and Abel, uh

[Verse]
I done seen a n!gga I love call the tip line
My dog cuffed a ho, but when it came to my b!tch, we flipped mine
Seen a n!gga 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 riding in, they can’t afford mine
I only’ll claim a bad b!tch, none of these wh*res mines
Mm, s*it I think I want the Virgil handbag
I’m on n!ggas’ tops, same place where the b!tch lace at
All them n!ggas that slept on me, pu*sy n!gga, this the payback
Popping too much s*it in the city, same place I caught my case at
Different n!gga, I still catch plays where I fu*king lay at
The feds listening, I take that back, they say I shouldn’t even say that

I hit the hood, I ask them young n!ggas what the fu*k is payback?
I’m in MIA with a Coke-bottle-shape b!tch, like where your waist at?
A different type of n!gga
Real rich n!gga and I’m playing with different type of figures
A different type of head ’cause I’m toting a different type of pistol
Hold on, ain’t no rap n!gga, I go by a different type of system, uh
Deray don’t answer, I call my mama phone like, “Mom, where Ray at?”
N!gga ain’t swinging the strap the right way, n!gga, I pull up and take that
I told that b!tch I was on the edge, not talking where my tape at
Caught me down, my b!tch 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 pu*sy good, why would you waste that?
Waste that pu*sy on a broke n!gga, it’s hard to face that

[Chorus]
Kick flavor, I’m the s*it, ain’t I?
Used to post up on the block with a big banger
Pissy jit, I done growed up, now I’m the s*it, ain’t I?
Bought the b!tch a car and bought her bags, but can’t s*it 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 n!gga sliming a n!gga he grew up with just for the paper
Me and my brother, we locked forever, this s*it ain’t Cain and Abel

[Outro]
(DDot cold as a motherfu*ker, on God)