| I’m so cold
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| Baby, why your blood zero below?
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| No matter how many tries
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| Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze
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| She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold
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| But your heart like snow, you’re so cold»
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| See I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home
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| They recommended semi-automatic weapons
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| Tradition, fuck a second amendment as long as they legal
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| They independent niggas
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| Hands in the sin box, dealers and killas tryna make a play
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| She ain’t get the best of me, schemin' like a refugee
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| Daddy, what’s the password? |
| Screamin', «Open sesame»
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| Ain’t a nigga fuck it yet, Bigga you the first
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| I be bangin', she be buckin' back
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| They ain’t give me nuttin' yeah
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| They just say the same shit
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| We just play the games
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| Speak my name Don Biggie, it came to change
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| Nigga, we came, saw, conquered
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| Eloquent music, God is my mantra
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| Pop out your closet like boogie monster
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| Workin' like Fonda, workin' like a sponsor
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| Leavin' in a Cadillac, pulled up in a Honda
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| Said her name was Lexis, mama named Shonda
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| Fuck for a couple 150 dollar massages, yeah
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| I’m so cold
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| Baby, why your blood zero below?
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| No matter how many tries
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| Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze
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| She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold
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| But your heart like snow, you’re so cold»
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| See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home
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| Yeah, I got a lotta flavor
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| You could tell that it’s me from a block or two
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| Yeah, look, I got a lotta haters
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| So you know my body, bitch, I keep a Glock or two
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| Ooh, and this rockstar shit get dangerous
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| So I’ma move how I gotta move
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| Yeah, I’ma rockstar but some gangster niggas wit' me to shoot who I tell 'em to
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| If you feel a way, nigga spin the block
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| Spin the block and hit his thought box off
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| I got everything in Saint Laurent
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| And Louboutin, Louis flip flops, ah
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| All my prices gettin' hot
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| And I’m gettin' hot with a pop star, ah
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| I got different color whips and all my watches iced out, yeah
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| This my lifestyle now
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| I’m so cold
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| Baby, why your blood zero below?
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| No matter how many tries
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| Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze
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| She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold
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| But your heart like snow, you’re so cold»
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| See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home
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| His body hit the dash, came from the second floor
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| Nigga lit, I hit a swig, ridin' late night
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| Clear my conscience
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| Baby steady hittin' up the phone
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| Player racked with guilt, bring a half of gallon milk
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| Niggas came around it’s built
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| Got a crew of niggas that’ll squeeze if I tell 'em to
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| Couple of 'em felons too
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| Knowing they can send me back, drama coke cleared out
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| Now that she can hear me rap, mama want a big house
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| Baby said she want a bag, she ain’t never earned it
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| Told her to earn the profit, but she ain’t never turned it
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| Nigga, don’t be lookin' so concerned
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| Drink the Henny, 'cause it burn
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| Blow the dope we get, never do the opiates
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| Icy like a Mountain Dew, colder than the Soviet
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| 50 to 100,000 a show we get
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| Every flow we spit, niggas duplicate
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| Fuck around, shoot your face
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| Niggas be movin' records, we movin' weight
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| I’m so cold
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| I’m so cold
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| Baby, why your blood zero below?
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| No matter how many tries
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| Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze
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| She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold
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| But your heart like snow, you’re so cold»
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| See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home
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| Uh, yeah, I love that shit baby
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| Cold blooded baby, the cold nigga Biggavel
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| A Boogie, what’s happenin' baby?
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| Paul Couture
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| Let that motherfucker ride |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song So Cold , by - A Boogie Wit da Hoodie. Song from the album House Money, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп