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cold world hustlers – cold day in hell lyrics

[verse 1: big vic]
oh yes i’m big, the b the i so i mack two gs
then comes the f-ckin’ vic the v-i and a couple ah cs
listenin’ to the anger in my head sayin’ i gotta stay drunk
while i’m waitin’ for this punk wid this cold pump
lookin’ a lavish n-gga as he sittin’ on them gold thangs
grippin’ on his mac looped up by a shoe string
around the piece, while i let him live a little longer
perbin’ cause i’m drunk so my trigger finger’s a little bit slow-er
h-ll’s freezin’ over, cl!ckin’ so hard we yellin’ cold world hustler
i can’t contain, what i can’t control
so i’m stumblin’ through the nineties and forever on the, roll
cause the neighborhood watch is watchin’ cause i’m bustin’
then the n-ggas in the sucka free’ll have you sluggin’
it’s a anything for money thang, a shortage in the dope game
the thirty two’s are poppin’ f-ck the fame, n-gga
i’m over the fence and up the stairs never reminiscin’
took my ski-mask off and slapped a new clip in
time to fire up a joint cause it’s hectic
sirens fill the street cause n-gga i’m a suspect
young -ss n-gga bangin’ barely coppin’ quarters
if money wasn’t a issue man i wouldn’t pop at, rollers
a cold day a cold week a cold year well
the thoughts of a past on this highway to, h-ll

[verse 2: rell]
now as i decide to creep up from behind already glock is c-cked
now watch the body drop, my finger went, back and forth
repeatedly rapidly n-ggas wanna jump bad wid me
n-gga f-ck that sh-t that’s why i copped me a glock and went
pop pop pop, i love the sound it goes cl!ck-clack
pop pop pop, i watch is head go split-splat
pop pop pop, i’m watchin’ suckas go skit-skat
pop pop pop, that was the jack for the crack sack
it’s a shame for what a young n-gga go through
smokin’ on that dank hopin’ a young n-gga pull through
i’m hopin’ that the five-oh don’t wanna roll through
f-ckin’ up my money while i’m tryna pay my, dues
man f-ck! what did i do to deserve this yo i don’t know
born october twenty-ninth a motherf-ckin’ scorpio
me no have no morals, me no have no cares
and me don’t give a f-ck if me be livin’ or you be dead
so me creep through me motherf-ckin’ streets
the only reason you no see me cause me creepin’ frequent-ly
so then i c-ck back my glock i’m clever n-ggas be gettin’ took forever
anything for money still, the way i’m livin’ n-gga
can’t ignore ignorance, helplessness or selflessness
sh-ttiness or emptiness or incompetence from a n-gga
h-ll will be a cold place, when they see my face
i’m gonna sell these cold rocks, up and down the hot blocks
wait’ll they get a load of me, down in h-e-l-l
for n-ggas that know for once i’m sick -ss r-e-l-l
it’ll be a cold day in h-ll before the rell
will accept any sh-t from a b-tch or the next n-gga

[verse 3: taydatay]
well you can step into the mind of a psychotic psycho
g-ngb-ngin’ creepin’ wid my three f-ckin’ eight-oh
a baldhead i keeps my sag on you better watch yo back
i’m quick to get my blast on i creep up from the cuts
commit a 2-11 then i f-ck around and leave up from the scene with a, 1-8-7
he never had a chance it was dark
i let the nine spark as he stepped from his ‘lark
so call me taydataker quick to pull a f-ckin’ caper
makin’ money all the time, lable me the f-ckin’ mail maker
all about my grip, stuck to the grind
i f-ck hoes in daylight then sell dope and nighttime
cause nighttime is my time and your time is short tho
you can’t tell me sh-t when i’m off that there indo
creepin’ through the cuts just like that n-gga said before
i’m sprayin’ up the party as i blast through the door
so run up or step up i’m down for the plot
i can’t fake no pitches hoe truster i’m not
no b-tch before the crew that’s what we say up in our cl!ck
cold day in f-ckin’ h-ll for this 4-1-5 sh-t

[hook]
cold day in h-ll, these are, cold days for real, n-gga
(4x)

[verse 4: e-sick]
one two three four five f-ck it enough n-ggas to fill the bucket
mashin’ down third straight chokin’ on, blunts
party’s hangin’ out the window best believe they got a pistol
cold world hustlin’ n-ggas just couldn’t give a f-ck b-tch
dodgin’ through the cut tryna stay on the under scene
never trust a b-tch so myself was the only team
started packin’ pistol cuz if cream that n-gga took my life
imagine even that, that’s some sh-t i can’t fight
ain’t n0body help me the corner’s gettin’ hot as f-ck
i stopped shootin’ dice in nine tray, there was no luck
drinkin’ more and more smokin’ dank gettin’ f-cked up
n-ggas still dyin’ but still i can’t give a f-ck
always stressed deep depressed my d-ck is in the, dirt
head is achin’ knees shakin’ i gotta put in work
sleepless late nights poppin’ pills so i won’t go to sleep
that’s the life i’m livin’ right now in these cold streets

[verse 5: maine-o]
it’s enough to make a n-gga wanna take his pistol grip
and buck buck buck him with that motherf-ckin’ weak sh-t
play me not, you tryna plex over them cheeks
but little did you know that i been k!llin’ sh-t for weeks
marks punks and b-tches, keep me personally protected
no funk intended, i just intend to be respected
i been constantly jacked bossed and tossed in the cell
got the kinda story to tell about a cold day in h-ll
hammers rammed in the dirt, cause we be slammin’ on tape
paid dues and been accused for everything from murder to rape
yeh it’s ya main maine i’m posse-in’ up wid -ss-ssins
i’m buckin’ down these corners tearin’ n-ggas in halves
and n-ggas try to plot plex, and play me
but i be poppin’ cops and busta n-ggas on a daily
i got my shady, shady n-ggas like an oak tree
and now my guage be first to be sure you don’t smoke me
laws can’t draw slow, i’m packin’ my four-four
my hoe’s name is nina but i think i need a little more
i pick bout four gats, that’s havin’ whole cl!cks bookin’
and n-ggas gettin’ filthy cause my hookers bout they hookin’
havin’ no remorse, as i’m watchin’ n-ggas scatter
and of course i got the force i’ma ratter-tat tatter
eratin’ they -ss, wid some hollow point spray
my dope spot’s hot, but in h-ll it’s a cold day

- cold world hustlers lyrics

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