Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Kinfolk, artist - D Smoke. Date of issue: 09.09.2021
Song language: English
Kinfolk |
| Ayy, Nephew Ric, tell 'em what’s good, seven |
| This shit for my kinfolk |
| Ayy, lil' Ric, talk to 'em for a second, homie, do that |
| This shit for my kinfolk (Yeah), many foes |
| Alright, nephew |
| This shit for my kinfolk, mini 'fros and these perms |
| All the soul in these words gon' have lows, don’t be stirred |
| This shit for my kinfolk (This shit, this shit, this shit) |
| This shit for my kinfolk |
| Pick in they afros smell like Murray’s tyin' durags down ('Rags down) |
| Don’t be sad to say what’s happenin', you know you love the sound (Okay) |
| Don’t brush against them waves (Okay), keep head caps on them braids (Okay) |
| My relatives and cuzzos pull up, hop out, wave that thang |
| This shit for my kinfolk (My kinfolk, my kinfolk) |
| This shit for my kinfolk (My kinfolk) |
| In fifth grade, I had a S-curl |
| I was convinced the light skinned niggas could get the best girls |
| But I was somewhere between milk chocolate and Maca root powder |
| My parents dark, they far from Terrance Howard |
| My fam' in Watts, grew up not far from Towers |
| The pans and pots were drums and socks were ours, we all shared |
| No box spring, it looked like we was playin' Tetris with the mattress but they |
| our beds |
| .45 dreams with no Visine, we all had visions at the time, it was all in our |
| heads |
| Most people want a beach tan out on ivory sands |
| We could all make it out if only one of us niggas grow to be Kenan Ivory Wayans |
| This shit is for my kinfolk (Go on lil' Ric, talk to 'em) |
| This shit for my kinfolk (If it’s kids around, you responsible for 'em, ya know? |
| This shit for my kinfolk, many foes (You they first teacher, you feel me?) |
| This shit for my kinfolk, mini 'fros and these perms |
| All the soul in these words gon' have lows, don’t be stirred |
| This shit for my kinfolk (Lil' Ric, tell 'em one more time, nephew, cuzzo) |
| This shit for my kinfolk |
| Pick in they afros smell like Murray’s tyin' durags down |
| Don’t be sad to say what’s happenin', you know you love the sound |
| Don’t brush against them waves, keep head caps on them braids |
| My relatives and cuzzos pull up, hop out, wave that thang |
| This shit for my kinfolk (My kinfolk, my kinfolk) |
| This shit for my kinfolk (My kinfolk, my kinfolk) |
| In ninth grade, I had the cornrows |
| OG Bobby Johnson, Inglewood High, Chuck Taylors with the Polos |
| Even though the Rus beef with the Treces we was cool, you might catch me with |
| the cholos |
| Wasn’t ridin' thick, but we had the clique, Chiz, Pimp, Jah, wasn’t tryna ride |
| solo |
| When we left the house, we was tryna come back like a yo-yo, uh |
| My hood demeanor made niggas think I’m they enemy |
| Ain’t cop that nina 'til graduated with my degree |
| But since a lil' tyke I was fascinated by the streets |
| But still ain’t never been no dummy for the life of me |
| Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Peter carried the sword, what do you keep in the |
| holster? |
| Pray to your Lord, that door can easily open and Peewee hop out of the |
| passenger side with eager motion |
| How you niggas like in L.A. and ain’t seen the ocean? |
| You can catch a wave like thirty brush strokes while the grease in the durag |
| Let it grow, start a new fad, if you don’t like how it grew from your roots, |
| baby, too sad |
| You can’t love nobody if you don’t love yourself |
| This shit for my kinfolk (Niggas be out here chasin' money, forget they health) |
| This shit for my kinfolk, many foes (Haters gon' hate anyway) |
| This shit for my kinfolk (My kinfolk, my kinfolk) |
| This shit for |
| In 2014, I got locked up |
| No handcuffs, just a mini 'fro and some beeswax with a rat tail propped up |
| Ready to apply a technique that took my wet kinks and turned it to somethin' |
| proper |
| Sittin' on pillows on the floor, ran through a couple movies, couple shows |
| When she was done, I was fresh to death like new clothes |
| How the fuck I’m s’posed to sleep, though? |
| Shit be flat on one side, Ms. Badu, sure you right |
| Then I grew 'til my shit got loose, now I twist my roots with much pride |
| God made us strong like my kinky, nappy, greasy, happy, weavy, sappy |
| We gladly linkin' like my locks, you better dread me and my kinfolk |