Текст песни
Mike WiLL Made-It. Thinking 'bout them cold nights, sleeping in that Cold cell. Eat nothing but cold food, They let me out that cold jail. Soon as I touched down, I had to give Them folks hell. Took off all them jail clothes, Showered off that jail smell. I don't need no wishing well, I'ma buy my Bitch Chanel. Keep it real, she paid the bill, Kept it real, no kiss and tell. Shout out to the cartel, fuck the opps, They called 12. I been trapping since 12, Selling nicks and bricks and bales. Narcotics and plenty seals, glass bowls and pocket Scales. Burglar bars and cameras, before my life was Glamorous. I shot like a camera, I kept all the amateurs. .556 is damage ya, we don't tote no derringers. Go check the thermometer, we bloodied the furniture. We hit at his mama house, I heard it Woke his mama up. I'ma keep the chopper tucked, Run up if you think you tough. Playing with all that funny stuff, they found his Body in the bluff. Poker face, we never bluff, play with them, Don't play with us. We got toys like Toys R Us, the chop So long, it's folding up. Where my boys? They rolling up, they look young, They old enough. Hell nah, they ain't old as Us, but try us, they gon' spray your bus Thinking 'bout them cold nights, sleeping in that Cold cell. Yeah. Eat nothing but cold food, They let me out that cold jail. What's Soon as I touched down, What's up, What's Happening? I had give them folks hell. Hold up. Took off all them jail clothes, Look, Look. showered off that jail smell. Bounce out of the B. O. P., Still toting that stick On me. All these hoes tryna fuck, I ain't giving no dick for free. At all. these people wanna show, need that bag C. O. D All these lil' slick posts, Save that shit to me in the street. What's Smashed all my old beef, snatched out my Old teeth. One by one, I'm coming to collect From everybody that owe me. Real killers, they know me. They Real street niggas mold me. Mold Better be able to see your hands, you Ever try to approach me. Let see them hands. got me burnt out, still A little institutionalized. Damn. Nigga, that shit was real, seen a nigga Stabbed to death right before my eyes. It. B Jizzle and Gucci Mane, you know this Shit gon' ride. Ride. From Yazoo to Polack, Fed niggas might start a riot Thinking 'bout them Cold nights, sleeping in that cold cell. Hit that zip start, nigga, they can't get them Up, nigga. nothing Soon as I touched down, I had to give them folks hell. Had give hell. Took off all jail Hit and Start, nigga, they can't get them up, nigga. Showered that jail smell. Jizzle, Gucci Mane. Now this what the street wanted hear. Shit too real
Gucci Mane, BG, Mike WiLL Made-It — Cold (feat. B.G. & Mike WiLL Made-It)
«Cold (feat. B.G. & Mike WiLL Made-It)» — Gucci Mane, BG, Mike WiLL Made-It. Читайте текст песни и подпевайте с караоке-подсветкой: строки текста подсвечиваются в такт музыке. Слушайте онлайн бесплатно или скачайте mp3. Длительность записи — 2:35.
