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look at god freestyle - cash kidd lyrics

[intro: cash kidd]
(okay, kmoney) huh, ayy
yeah, ooh
i got bad b*tches textin’ me “where you at?”
b*tch, any f*ckin’ ’round, that you throwin’ at
b*tch, hold on
finna
ayy
ayy, yeah
hmm
who ain’t want a ho? f*ck it

[chorus: cash kidd]
b*tch, i fry, flyin’ down the six, just me and live
oh my god, hundred thousand dollars in the booth, just me and ton, ayy
i see my old b*tch inside the club, act like you go blind, ayy
i hop out that foreign like it’s prime, look at god, ayy
bring it up with swan, now i got swans in my palm, ayy
i just cut your lil’ b*tch off for good, i got my mind made
bebe kid got rich off bendin’ rules, i promise crime pays
eatin’, b*tch, i got my dough up like an i8

[verse 1: cash kidd]
i ate, get it, n*gga?
yeah, he crisp, but he soft as h*ll, boy a chicken tender
broke n*gga, keep your two cents, this ain’t feed the children
slide down in some christian loubs, i hope jesus with me
f*ck a n*gga b*tch, p*ssy cry about it
yeah, that lil’ ho contagious, n*gga, ron isley
ho, the k!ller you be runnin’ from just high*fived me
hatin’*ass n*gga, you and your b*tch side*eyeing, huh, ayy
[verse 2: tis rico]
get to runnin’ from these sh*lls when they start flyin’
get excited from the fiends when they start buyin’
i’ma need that chicken straight, yeah, i’ma draw nine
n*gga, i be on the grind, this for hard times
b*tch seen me, act like she was blind, she ain’t notice me
jugged him for a couple lines just because we know he sweet
jugged him for a couple lines and he ain’t even know it’s tea
hit his block, blew it down, he ain’t even know the streets

[verse 3: cash kidd & tis rico]
know i got my f*ckin’ dough up
told her i got fifty b*tches, she like so what?
she gon’ cry when i cut her off, her hopes up
ayy, catch me on the east with that 40, i go dumb
treat these lil’ b*tches like trash cans, we gon’ dump, ayy
called a n*gga reebok how i hit him with pump, ayy
smokin’ in an uber, i just tipped a goofy n*gga with a fake card
but these days, everything free ’cause of my face card
defensive player of the year, i love to take charge
know i keep the blower on my side like i paint cars
g money keep clutchin’, give him a reason
ironic how i’m loadin’ up and i’m freezin’
o and rico, n*ggas know i p a demon, ayy
ayy, these n*ggas sleep on me, these n*ggas dreamin’, ayy
ayy, don’t cuff a n*gga ’til all these b*tches teamin’, ayy
ayy, don’t f*ck these hoes, bro, all these b*tches stinkin’, ayy
[chorus: cash kidd]
b*tch, i fry, flyin’ down the six, just me and live
oh my god, hundred thousand dollars in the booth, just me and ton, ayy
i see my old b*tch inside the club, act like you go blind, ayy
i hop out that foreign like it’s prime, look at god, ayy
bring it up with swan, now i got swans in my palm, ayy
i just cut your lil’ b*tch off for good, i got my mind made
bebe kid got rich off bendin’ rules, i promise crime pays
eatin’, b*tch, i got my dough up like an i8

- cash kidd lyrics

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