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tzb - cold lyrics

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[produced by cedes]

[verse]
what’s up?
just resurfaced, but i don’t give a f+ck
disclosing information, but not opening up
b+tch started up stuff, ended up getting stuck, uh
you know what i’m saying?
you don’t value time, why the f+ck is you playin’?
they see me outside, but i’m going insane
just like sinatra, need a home on the range
need the gold on a chain, need a boat with some wings
not supposed to be alive, but i need an escape, d+mn
life ain’t what i think it is
all the déjà vu and coincidence
recording words full of the passion and pain
if it’s lacking emotion, ima spit it again
they like, “pssh, n+gga, are you serious?”
on that eddie murphy sh+t, they delirious
and after i beat the p+ssy, furious
i could show her how i live if she curious
was close to poverty, now i’m living, sh+t
went silent for awhile, now you hearing this
cold, n+gga, i’m frozone, n+gga
no super suit, monthly average four figures
but still gettin’ fly for your boo like jigga
if you don’t like the words, then i know you love the rhythm
all these b+tches hooked like a n+gga going fishin’
need a mill like meek, tryna make it out them trenches
to get in that position, gotta change your disposition
they accusing me of sh+t, but never been to depositions, uh
[chorus]
i done did it befo’
f+ck a n+gga hoe, man, i did it befo’
laugh at n+ggas dying, i done did it befo’
whole crowd looking like, “n+gga, you cold”
you cold
you cold
whole d+mn crowd like, “n+gga, you cold”
don’t see a smile, why? n+gga you cold
negative fifty+five, n+gga, you cold, you cold

[verse 2]
now she wanna be
faced down, got my d+ck jumpin’ like a wallaby
she all tatted up, so she think that she could handle me
high on that sh+t, i might burn down her canopy
gotta blow a n+gga ‘cause she know that she a fan of me
the fact is, n+ggas on the block called me family
n had more love for a n+gga who was agony
i hope them rugrats get steamed like stanley
all these black people, they treat me the strangest
but they can’t discredit that my sh+t is amazing
it’s all ‘bout money talk, i’m speaking the language
i feel like paul bunyan, i’m choppin’ up paper
smoking on that good sh+t in my hotel room
took a b+tch, and i ate her like a werewolf
she only one she want me to attend to
so i took it like, “oh, ima f+ck yo friend too?”
3am, moving quietly
headphones playing me the loudest beats
tryna run up numbers with the hottest picks
reach inside my brain for the lottery
i took my frozen heart, broke a part of it
and put it in these songs as an offering
they just gon’ love me for my honesty
even if they don’t, i’m so proud of me
molding this b+tch like a prostitute
i’m really patrick swayze with the pottery
my lady is a artificial, bad b+tch
the jews really thought it was some magic sh+t
[chorus]
i done did it befo’
f+ck a n+gga hoe, man, i did it befo’
laugh at n+ggas dying, i done did it befo’
whole crowd looking like, “n+gga, you cold”
you cold
you cold
whole d+mn crowd like, “n+gga, you cold”
don’t see a smile, why? n+gga you cold
negative fifty+five, n+gga, you cold, you cold



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