| Spring forward, fall back
|
| New coupe, all black
|
| The dead of winter
|
| And these rappers still wack
|
| In fact I’mma blow up on the track
|
| Like a suicide bomber
|
| Roll around through Iraq
|
| Instead I’m in Detroit
|
| East Side, Beirut
|
| When the thermostat drop
|
| They cock, squeeze, and shoot
|
| They out cold
|
| Salute, army fatigues, and boots
|
| I’m General Motors
|
| And you all new recruits
|
| First mission on the streets
|
| Get you some big heat
|
| And be prepared for war
|
| Never retreat
|
| We’re headed for Armageddon
|
| I’m bleedin' like I’m sweatin'
|
| The end of the world as we know it
|
| Don’t be forgettin'
|
| I’m locked and loaded
|
| Got the cannons exploded
|
| Leave your body in the ground
|
| Decomposed and corroded
|
| The Wicket rhyme, yeah I wrote it
|
| So quotable that they quote it
|
| Watch me walk on water
|
| (?) away then I floated
|
| It’s a cold day in Hell
|
| 'Cause all the devils
|
| Make you hot up here
|
| And everybody wondering
|
| How they gettin' shot up here
|
| Even the angels up in Heaven
|
| Say they got up there
|
| Revelations, Last Days
|
| If you not aware
|
| On a cold Winter’s day
|
| The slush turn to ice
|
| And that’s why my heart
|
| Been cold all my life
|
| When the temperature drop
|
| My heartbeat stop
|
| Be a cold day in Hell
|
| I give a fuck about a cop
|
| Do it for TNT
|
| And all my niggas on the block
|
| Pop, pop
|
| Piggity, pop, pop, pop, pop
|
| Pop, pop
|
| Piggity, pop, pop, pop, pop
|
| Pop, pop
|
| Piggity, pop, pop, pop, pop
|
| Pop, Pop
|
| Temperatures fallin'
|
| Voices be callin' me Black Ice
|
| They say don’t slip around me
|
| Pussy, yeah, watch your lips around me
|
| I’m out cold
|
| Frozen ass and tits around me
|
| How you finna shine
|
| In the Wintertime
|
| When there’s wolves out here
|
| And it’s dinnertime
|
| On a cold winter’s day
|
| Blood stains on my pants
|
| I can feel the frostbite
|
| Start to tingle on my hands
|
| I cannot hold my knife no more
|
| She tellin' me it tickles
|
| Told me slide it 'cross her throat
|
| Until I see her blood trickle
|
| She couldn’t get enough
|
| She asked if could we make a snuff
|
| She wanted me to beat her
|
| With a hose and tie her up
|
| Said, «Get some gasoline»
|
| 'Cause it excited her
|
| And next thing you know
|
| She struck a match and lit a fire up |