| «These cold days got me in a physical rage» — Ruthless Bastards 'Bastards'
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| «It's like that from the Stat where I live at»
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| «Walking through the dark path of this invisible maze» — Ruthless Bastards
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| 'Murder He Wrote'
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| «My life ain’t rosy but I roll with it» — Jay-Z 'Dead Presidents II'
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| I didn’t choose this life, this life chose me
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| I don’t owe the game, the game owes me
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| I might know you but you don’t know me
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| My OG see things you don’t see
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| Sex, money, and murder on the TV
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| It’s easy to put out a bullshit CD
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| And poison the people’s minds for GP
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| Destroying what we designed in 3D
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| Everybody’s yelling recession but I’m selling some weapons
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| That’ll help you get by without stressing
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| Answer one question, you ain’t gotta lie
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| Are you really willing to die to get by?
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| Going through mad shit trying to keep my head high
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| Coming to you live from the middle of Bed-Stuy
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| Where it’s do-or-die homicides and suicides
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| Sex, drugs, money, lies, baby you could decide
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| I had to do it every day son I couldn’t hide
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| I couldn’t cry but I slipped up a couple times
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| Puffing a dime so high we hustled and grind
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| Fuck a crew it was just me, my cousin, and I
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| We’d catch a couple of vics, swell a couple of eyes
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| Take a nigga lunch money then order a pie
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| Meet up in the morning at the corner at nine
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| Then party and bullshit till a quarter to five
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| Yo in this struggle you gotta have Street Smartz
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| That’s why we pack Metal Thangz for those with sheep hearts
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| Deep darks aren’t fragmented on these glaciers of ice
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| Like an abused pitbull I was bred to be nothing nice
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| Alcohol vice, grim slip into a trance
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| Shoulder chip getting worse, disperse bullets over a glance
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| A true romance, no Christian Slater
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| Denounce myself as a Christian, I’m a vicious hater
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| No fictitious saviour is a neighbour of mine
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| Blue collar scholar with a martyr I dine
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| Cheap wine, whiskey and beer
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| Dilemma of a scumbag, I’m the apprentice of fear
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| Warfare engineer, a oppression
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| Fuck a knife, I got an axe to cut the tension
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| I’m the one they mention as a henchman of rap
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| So you rhyming is like giving Kool Herc a slap
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| In the jungle where alley cats and rowdy rats
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| We polly at playgrounds where they stash the dead bodies at
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| It’s a cold world, better get your pea coat
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| It’s hard to see hope when shorty on they knees like they feet broke
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| Giving deep throat so she can release dope
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| Into her veins, part of the game in the streets though
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| All that we know, shoot to kill first
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| So fuck an ill verse, I still see my nigga Millhurst
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| I see his mom grabbing at the casket
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| Later that night we riding deep blasting at them bastards
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| It’s a cycle of madness
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| I still think they coming for me
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| So fuck the cops, the judge, and the jury cause they ain’t did nothing for me
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| When I was young I’d roll a blunt and crush a forty
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| Just to escape the scene of the crime cause it was gory
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| You rappers corny, there’s nothing to glorify
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| I’m horrified by how many brothers left before their time
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| And they all speak through me
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| That’s why I’ll always speak truthfully
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| Yeah you know who it be
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| Let the music breathe |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cold Dayz, artist - Snowgoons. Album song The Snowgoons Instrumentals, Vol. 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп