James W. Maddox Jr., T-Rock and Anthony Wells - Cold

Chorus (T-Rock):
I-I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth. I-I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth. I-I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth. I'm the maaaaaan in my city. I'm the maaaaaan do you hear me?
Verse One (T-Rock):
Check out my lyrical recipe. I flow like I'm in the Nile. The devil's tryin' block a nigga from his blessings never hoe, look at me now. Illusions of money and fame and the validation from it had me down. When I grew up I found out if you're a real motha fucka you'll rarely appeal to the crown. Still in the trenches with killaz who gung ho, Michael Buffer shit, they're ready to rumble, if I tell ‘em that you got out of pocket, no hesitation little buddy you're done fo'. I remember gutter livin' when I was an adolescent now I dwell in a condo. Dead weight from hatin' hoes and niggaz, I had to cut it out of my life like a lawn mower. God forgive a nigga savage ways and the neighborhoods I done set a blaze. Had to be on that cowboy shit back when I was comin' up, hang a sucka like cdam Page. Niggaz thinkin' that they know shit, until their light is in the dark. I may look like a Goldfish, but I can swim with the sharks nigga!
Chorus (T-Rock):
I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth. I-I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth. I'm the maaaaaan in my city. I'm the maaaaaan do you hear me?
(Repeat)
Bridge (Homebwoi):
Cold... Cold... (teeth chattering) So Cold... Cold... Whew Shit! Cold... The World's
Verse Two (Homebwoi):
Colder than a nigga that'll punch his baby momma in the stomach while she's pregnant, make her lose her baby. Unapologetic, but he say he loves her, oh that nigga crazy. Colder than a pastor on the pulpit preachin', never practice the shit that he's teachin'. Go home get drunk as a deacon, all the while your momma keep catchin' them beatings. Shit's colder than family silence that's why we don't trust ya. We don't talk about it, but everybody in the fam know that you touched her. COlder than a baby sitter in your crib gettin' lit, sneaking playin' with our little baby's dick. Pray she gets caught. Hope you die slow. You's a sick bitch. Colder than a coach making you stay after school so he can play jail. Tell you to keep your mouth closed and dare you to tell, but I hope he burns in hell. Colder than a white boy that'll drive to your hood with that ammo thinking he's Rambo, shoot up a store, shoot up a church in daylight no camo. Lawd, colder than casual sex and now that you're pregnant you say you don't want it. (Sucking noise) Sucked it right out of your stomach. Cold... So cold...
Chorus (T-Rock):
I don't sleep. I just work. I'm on alert. I'm pushin' P. You keep the Perc. I've been a king before the birth.

Written by:
ANTHONY WELLS, JAMES MADDOX

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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