Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song So Cold, artist - A Boogie Wit da Hoodie. Album song House Money, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.12.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Emg
Song language: English
So Cold |
I’m so cold |
Baby, why your blood zero below? |
No matter how many tries |
Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze |
She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold |
But your heart like snow, you’re so cold» |
See I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home |
They recommended semi-automatic weapons |
Tradition, fuck a second amendment as long as they legal |
They independent niggas |
Hands in the sin box, dealers and killas tryna make a play |
She ain’t get the best of me, schemin' like a refugee |
Daddy, what’s the password? |
Screamin', «Open sesame» |
Ain’t a nigga fuck it yet, Bigga you the first |
I be bangin', she be buckin' back |
They ain’t give me nuttin' yeah |
They just say the same shit |
We just play the games |
Speak my name Don Biggie, it came to change |
Nigga, we came, saw, conquered |
Eloquent music, God is my mantra |
Pop out your closet like boogie monster |
Workin' like Fonda, workin' like a sponsor |
Leavin' in a Cadillac, pulled up in a Honda |
Said her name was Lexis, mama named Shonda |
Fuck for a couple 150 dollar massages, yeah |
I’m so cold |
Baby, why your blood zero below? |
No matter how many tries |
Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze |
She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold |
But your heart like snow, you’re so cold» |
See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home |
Yeah, I got a lotta flavor |
You could tell that it’s me from a block or two |
Yeah, look, I got a lotta haters |
So you know my body, bitch, I keep a Glock or two |
Ooh, and this rockstar shit get dangerous |
So I’ma move how I gotta move |
Yeah, I’ma rockstar but some gangster niggas wit' me to shoot who I tell 'em to |
If you feel a way, nigga spin the block |
Spin the block and hit his thought box off |
I got everything in Saint Laurent |
And Louboutin, Louis flip flops, ah |
All my prices gettin' hot |
And I’m gettin' hot with a pop star, ah |
I got different color whips and all my watches iced out, yeah |
This my lifestyle now |
I’m so cold |
Baby, why your blood zero below? |
No matter how many tries |
Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze |
She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold |
But your heart like snow, you’re so cold» |
See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home |
His body hit the dash, came from the second floor |
Nigga lit, I hit a swig, ridin' late night |
Clear my conscience |
Baby steady hittin' up the phone |
Player racked with guilt, bring a half of gallon milk |
Niggas came around it’s built |
Got a crew of niggas that’ll squeeze if I tell 'em to |
Couple of 'em felons too |
Knowing they can send me back, drama coke cleared out |
Now that she can hear me rap, mama want a big house |
Baby said she want a bag, she ain’t never earned it |
Told her to earn the profit, but she ain’t never turned it |
Nigga, don’t be lookin' so concerned |
Drink the Henny, 'cause it burn |
Blow the dope we get, never do the opiates |
Icy like a Mountain Dew, colder than the Soviet |
50 to 100,000 a show we get |
Every flow we spit, niggas duplicate |
Fuck around, shoot your face |
Niggas be movin' records, we movin' weight |
I’m so cold |
I’m so cold |
Baby, why your blood zero below? |
No matter how many tries |
Nobody really ever sees us unless we froze |
She said nigga, «You got a mouth like gold |
But your heart like snow, you’re so cold» |
See, I got a thing for you and I can’t let go, I’m goin' home |
Uh, yeah, I love that shit baby |
Cold blooded baby, the cold nigga Biggavel |
A Boogie, what’s happenin' baby? |
Paul Couture |
Let that motherfucker ride |