Lyrics Cold - HD, Bandaide

Cold

4 in the morning and we still up
And we ain’t going in till we banked up
Red lights on the black and white
But niggas out here dying tryna live that life
And when we trapping them bands, you know we do it right
On the road to success, sipping the dirty sprite
And we’ll push the Bob Barker if the Price Is Right
And we’ll push the Bob Barker if the Price Is Right
And if you scared go to church
I prayed to the Game God but it didn’t work
4 in the morning and we still up
Scared to death of losing tryna get it up
Keep the music down, check the rearview
Where I’m from a red light’ll be the death of you
Smoking snorting sipping popping numb the pain
I lose another nigga I’ma go insane
Soft off-white coke on a dope plate
I’m outside strapped down grinding in the rain
We got that Pat Sajak, bring the fortune back
I got that Bob Barker white, if the price is right
And I swore that I wouldn’t go back to selling
That same shit that had my mama selling my game gifts
Just for a base hit, now they got me back on my
Basics, back in the kitchen whipping this cake mix
Nigga back to the yayo, something that I swore I
Wouldn’t sell, but I’m back to the pyrex, arm and hammer and a
Scale, I’m back to the baggies I’m back to the knocks, the
Block, I’m back where it started, back to running from the
Cops, I’m back to this bullshit chasing chicken in the
Chicken shit, when you chasing chicken for your lawyer fees and
Lawyer ?, so I’ma keep chasing till my money stretch
Or my feet blister or your price is right mister
Holla, at me, B, nigga
(Hook)
I’m tryna get this shit up, ain’t going home tonight
I get it in all day, be trapping all night
Born trife, I’m motivated to get it
Never thought I’d see the day I put Boonts on back of my fitted
You know that I stay with it, on my hip I keep a Nia Long
Get it out a bitch or talk chicken through a microphone
Don’t matter, either way I’m putting on
I’m still gunning for Lik and popping off for Stone
Tell them niggas hold on, I ain’t finished yet
Niggas on that internet-banging get the mini-Tek
If you talking bout chicken I’m all in
Live life like no tomorrow, wake up and do it again
It’s the 1
I grew up in the hood where every block got a brother
A sinner, I eat a nigga face just for dinner
Locked up no Jadakiss, got killers on D-Block
When it’s trife in the hood I push sheetrock
Heavy when I Chris Rock, Killuminati 2Pac
You know Lil Rod gon shoot if he see a opp
Bearfaced we the MOB, hit us if you need a job
I’m turnt up, got a cup of that Young Screw
Still trapping, Hoodstar like young Scoot
Look in my eyes, that’s pain staring at you
The homie do bad, I toss a four lateral
Mix the coke with the baking soda that’s compatible
Thank you
(Hook)
Still getting free bands, why you niggas hating on me?
Got my main bitch in the bed waiting on me
Four in the morning, still up trapping
Got my lil nigga with me and he trigger happy
Lost a lot of niggas to the street life
Got some niggas in the pen facing 25
I’m damn near dozing when I’m getting high
So I’ma keep sipping till I catch a nod
Two whole zannies in a two liter
And I been a young felon, you niggas misdemeanors
I met G-Dirty off in Santa Rita
Now I’m posted all night, strapped with the nina
Knocks keep blowing up my trap phone
If you ain’t talking bout chicken hear the dial tone
Still out rocking for my nigga Stone
First nigga on the block, catch me early morn'
(Hook)