Lyrics Too Cold - Roots Manuva

Too Cold

I’m too cold, I’m too cold, I’m too cold
I’m too old, I’m too old, I’m too old
And it shows, and it shows, and it shows —
And you know, and you know, and you know
Sometimes I hate myself;
sometimes I love myself
Sometimes I hate myself;
sometimes I love myself
Ah wh' the fuck, man?
We can’t stay bruk, man
We never stuck, man
We on the up, man
I do my nut, man
Puke up my gut, man
I’m a such and such, man
I don’t know much, man
I pay my dues, man
Now I’m confused, man:
Scabby vampires wanna run, come along come use man
The same old news, man
We bring the blues, man
My baby left me because I wouldn’t buy new shoes, man
We win or lose, man
Don’t ask me for a twos, man
Buy your own fags, man
Mind you get stabbed man
Don’t you see that we some big broad bad man
Born and bred in this ‘ere big broad bad land
Known all over the world as a mad man
Life is hard but it’s just too bad man
Sometimes I hate myself.
sometimes I love myself
Sometimes I hate myself, sometimes I love myself
I spoke with my money
This ain’t a joke money
Banana boat money
Banana vote money
Food on a plate money
Real or fake money
Lose or take money
At times I hate money
It’s money that makes money makes people act funny
Civilized men start to act gunny-gunny
Take your life in a second with the right kind of money
Life in the west we obsessed by money
Mind how you worship, you can’t be blessed by money
I do the best with all my money
Progress with my money
Invest with my money
Touch breasts with my money
Get sex with my money
Get vexed with my money
Respect for my money means I feed my tummy
Blessed be my pound, get my food damn yummy
Sometimes I hate myself, sometimes I love myself
Sometimes I hate myself, sometimes I love myself
Rhyme scholar from the school of the hooligan
Backing out the toolie when shit get too hectic
Smacking up dem bwans turn dem bwans epilectic
I’m on some next shit
Dudes respect it
I’m the eclectic
Known for my eccentrics
You can’t prevent this I’m the God blessed God sent this
UK rhyme saviour?
No never quite!
That was just some media totality hype
I ain’t the best MC, or the worst MC
But I got certification I’m the first MC
I flip the flip, the new flip, the old flip
I zip my lip but I still sip my get-drunk-quick
Dun done this shit
That’s the bwan Smith
Nothing to prove
Mad at the moon
Latidude, longitude
Loving these brews
Upset too many crews with all of my views
Roots Manuva?
Who the hell is it?
MC, MC
And furthermore that’s the only MC
The only MC