Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Game So Cold , by - Footz the BeastRelease date: 19.03.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Game So Cold |
| Yeah |
| I’m feelin' this one Q |
| This a classic |
| Pachino Life |
| These rappers is so old |
| Need to retire rap |
| Fuck with young Coz, 'cause I’m where that fire at |
| Come walk through my home |
| Yeah, I’ll take you inside of that |
| Inside my rap, still strugglin', but I know real cats admire that |
| I got a fam so most my time get applied to that |
| But I’m still hungry, see the fame, I desire that |
| I heard they sayin' I’m sweet now |
| 'Cause I don’t run around strapped, tuckin' that heat now |
| And I ain’t in the mix, movin' P’s and keys now |
| 'Cause I could make a hunnit-thou, fuckin' with beats wild |
| You not in my ball game |
| You dudes is small change |
| Ice and a couple hoes, is that what you call fame |
| A lot of cats hatin' on me |
| But most of 'em fakin', homie |
| The world is debatin' on me |
| I got her patiently pacin' and waitin' on me |
| They know the flow is so butter |
| Rap with the soul level brother |
| I’m so gutter |
| It’s no other |
| I’m so cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Under pressure and won’t fold |
| 'Cause homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Got rap in a choke hold |
| And homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| I won’t fold |
| This street life is so cold |
| I’m holdin' my mom’s hands |
| And beggin' her don’t go |
| I’m watchin' my kids cry |
| The price on the brick’s high |
| Shit, I remember when they were goin' for 10−5 |
| And now it’s like, losin' life is supposed to be easy |
| Now he lost his life over money |
| He was tryna' feed his child |
| And my young homie tried to send a brick or two |
| Be careful where you’re shippin' to |
| It’s been hard to get 'em through |
| But I’m in love with this lifestyle |
| This Kush is just so loud |
| I’m tryin' to slow down |
| My heart is just cold now |
| And trust me, them boys tried twice |
| But no, they couldn’t touch me |
| Bag full of dirty money |
| Used to ride around town with that thing on my lap |
| And now I’m stuck in the traffic |
| And while I’m weighin' these packs |
| I start to think about all I used to dream about |
| Cars, big houses, and money |
| How can they leave me out |
| I’m so cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Under pressure and won’t fold |
| 'Cause homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Got rap in a choke hold |
| And homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Conversin' with my O.G. |
| and burnin' on some Christmas tree |
| Ask 'em why don’t you please give me game on life mystery |
| Told me that we all born to die, so prepare to be |
| A maker of history and broken down misery |
| You told me every hustle that was ever born to struggle |
| Was forgivin by God, so I purchase the hard |
| Then I put it in the trunk |
| And I took a short trip |
| And I put it in the trap |
| And I make that brick flip |
| And it only took a Summer for my come up |
| Shorty had them units in the city doin' numbers |
| Fuckin' with the pretties of hoes, you remember |
| Tammy, Trenae, Melinda, Jacenta |
| Had all them hoes whippin' with a blender |
| Either that or carryin' them bags in the rental |
| And I done took my O.G.'s plug by December |
| They told that old man, homie, don’t trip, remember |
| I’m so cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Under pressure and won’t fold |
| 'Cause homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| Got rap in a choke hold |
| And homie I’m |
| So cold |
| So cold |
| So cold |