Z Look Jamaican Kodak Black

[Intro]
The Z look Jamaican
The streets say you fakin'
Shareese in here naked
YM, Prada
I hit her then forgot her
The Z was born a shotta
The Z costs me a dollar

[Verse 1]
(And when you eat) And when you eat, act like you swallowing it
Patek Philippe, got marbles in it
I'm turnt, I'm up, I'm all the way lit
Lil' buddy a fag, he all on my dick
He jockin' my swag, bopping like me
You can't compare me, regardless
The weed smell, but ain't garbage
The mademoiselle in her 40s
The Z a Rastafarian, the Z a Rastafarian Coupe
I'm skeeting off dust, mi sorry mi yute
Your daddy a Z, so what are you?
Dragging my feet 'cause I'm on the boot for sure
My momma and dad from the Caribbean
Got Florida tags on a European
I need head off the bat like I'm Derek Jeter
Roll a gram of that wax 'cause it's therapeutic