cold - gucci mane lyrics
[intro]
(mike will made*it)
[chorus: gucci mane]
thinking ’bout them cold nights (cold), sleeping in that cold cell
eating nothin’ but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (d*mn)
soon as i touched down i had to give them folks h*ll (yeah)
took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell (yeah)
[verse 1: gucci mane]
i don’t need no wishing well, i’ma buy my b*tch chanel
keep it real, she paid the bail, kept it player, no kiss and tell
shout out to the cartel, f*ck the opps, they called twelve
i been trapping since twelve, selling nicks and bricks and bales
narcotics and plenty sales, glass bowls and pocket scales (skrrt)
burglar bars and cameras before my life was glamorous (huh)
i shine like a camera (shine), i kicked all the amateurs
556’s damage ya (hot), we don’t tote no derringer (hot)
go check the thermometer (hot), we bloodied the furniture
we hit at his momma house, i heard it woke his momma up (mom)
i’ma keep the chopper tucked, run up if you think you tough (cha*cha)
playing with all that funny stuff, they found his body in the bluff (ha)
poker face, we never bluff
play with them, don’t play with us (nah)
we got toys like toys r us, the chop’s so long it’s folding up
where my boys? they rolling up
they look young, they old enough
h*ll no, they ain’t old as us
but try us, they gon’ spray your bus (grah)
[chorus: gucci mane & b.g.]
thinking ’bout them cold nights, sleeping in that cold cell
eating nothin’ but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (yeah)
soon as i touched down i had to give them folks h*ll (what’s up, wop?)
took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell
(look, look, look)
[verse 2: b.g.]
bounced out of the b.o.p., still toting that stick on me (i got it)
all these hoes tryna f*ck (what?), i ain’t giving no d*ck for free (at all)
all these people want a show (what?), need that bag c.o.d. (i need it)
all these lil’ sl!ck posts, say that sh*t to me in the streets
smashed all my old beef, smashed out my old t**th
one by one i’m coming to collect from everybody that owe me (everybody)
real k!llers, they know me (they know), real street n*ggas mold me
better be able to see your hands you ever try to approach me (let me see, n*gga)
feds got me burnt out, still a little institutionalized (d*mn)
n*gga, that sh*t was real, seen n*ggas stabbed to death right before my eyes
b*gizzle and gucci mane, you know this sh*t gon’ ride
free [?] fed n*ggas might start a riot
[chorus: gucci mane]
thinking ’bout them cold nights, sleeping in that cold cell (if it’s up, it’s stuck, n*gga)
eating nothin’ but cold food, they let me out that cold jail (they can’t kick ’em up, n*gga)
soon as i touched down i had to give them folks h*ll (if it’s up, it’s stuck, n*gga)
took off all them jail clothes, showered off that jail smell (they can’t kick ’em up, n*gga)
[outro: gucci mane & b.g.]
mike will, b*gizzle, gucci mane
this what the streets wanted to hear
this sh*t too real
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