mike vercetti – cold world lyrics
[verse 1: mike vercetti]
it’s a cold world, n+gga, better bundle up
better get your mind together, better huddle up
i’m catchin’ plays any side of town, b+tch, i’m pullin’ up
don’t be surprised when i pull up in the bentley truck
my n+gga only wear white tees, but he keep fifty tucked
my young n+gga bought three glock 19s when he turned twenty+one
you rarely see me out on the scene, i’m really in the cut
i’d rather sit back, stack up my cheese and keep on addin’ funds
‘member when a n+gga had nothing
now it’s double g’s on our buckle, figuring this life sh+t likе a puzzle
need a b+tch don’t need no introduction
she already know how i’m comin’
onе of the flyest n+ggas in it and never been under
i think it’s time to talk my sh+t ’cause i’m tired of bein’ humble
these n+ggas all weirdos and lil’ n+ggas outnumbered
if i don’t know nothin’, one thing i know, i’ma get some money
stick to the code, stay g, my pride, you can’t take it from me
homicide been on my mind ’cause i be k!llin’ sh+t
effortless, fly when i arrive, i hardly try, kid
that’s another three+five, know i’m burinin’ the finest piff
your b+tch see the difference, she know you a square and that i’m him
ain’t no competition, none of these n+ggas, they can’t contend
i was a young n+gga when i went and touched my first ten
sold my n+gga some outdoor, he shot ’em out to the tenn’
made a k!lling on them b+tches and came and did it again
[verse 2: babyfxce e]
i just grabbed another striker, now i’m finna switch the vin
man, this b+tch ain’t even mine and i’m finna get some tint
he tried to offer me twenty+five, man, he must be off the fent’
almost beat a n+gga ass over a song ’cause he ain’t send me splits
dropped out of school and started trappin’, been hustlin’ ever since a jit
a n+gga tried me on the fourth of july, ain’t make it to the fifth
brodie head f+cked up, he fightin’ demons, he just faced a fit
he came outside while his sh+t was gettin’ sn+tched and tried to chase his whip
dummy, man, that sh+t is over
just go down to the station, report your sh+t as stolen
just put on the gloves on with my pockets, now my sh+t is swollen
cruisin’ in a boat, sippin’ wock’, i got that sh+t from pourin’
n+gga, i’m really havin’ motion
call the chop key to your chest ’cause it’ll leave it open
ridin’ with a glock, cruisin’ in a ford because i gotta focus
b+tch, don’t try to give me your heart, ’cause i’ll leave it broken
[outro: babyfxce e]
yeah, it’s with an x, n+gga
fxce
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