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cold world - mike vercetti 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

- mike vercetti lyrics

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