Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Philthy Rich

Heart Colder

 

Heart Colder

(album: Hometown Hero - 2020)


[Money Man:]
I'm tryna get the Louis, these Cartiers confusing
These shoes are Versace, I don't [?]
My exotic so potent, my bitches, they chose, they Italian, they smoking
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfucking poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feeling so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
I just hit the lil' bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixing my soda, my heart just be just like Minnesota

Pull the stick, let it loose like I'm bipolar
All this loud in the house, got a loud odor
Every nigga in the struggle got love for me
All the plugs on the West, they got bud for me
Every day, gotta hit up the gun range
Niggas ain't got no heart, they just bitch-made
I just purchased my lil' bitch a Mustang
I been trapping, lil' nigga, since eighth grade
Everything that I'm burning that high grade
Made a hundred K jugging 'em, then spent
I swear me and lil' mama connected
When she with me, she feel so protected
This a 'Vette right here, that not a Lexus
They show mad love when I go to Texas
Just to re-up, I went me a distance
I'll come and end your existence
You got Virgil, had four of the santan
Finna go get a bag, I'm relentless
Making hits, ain't got time for these bitches
We gon' see who can shoot this shit quickest
How you pull out a stick and ain't hit shit?
I just find me a glitch, I'm the slickest
I just poured me a four in some Sunkist

I'm tryna get the Louis, these Cartiers confusing
These shoes are Versace, I don't [?]
My exotic so potent, my bitches, they chose, they Italian, they smoking
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfucking poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feeling so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
I just hit the lil' bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixing my soda, my heart just be colder

[Philthy Rich:]
Heart cold from all this pain, at Club E11EVEN on Biscayne
Ordered fifty-nine rosé bottles, I swear to God that I miss Maine
In the rearview when I switch lanes, Big 59, I done switched names
Pull on side of this Bentley truck, 7.62's gon' exchange
Forty thou' on these VV's, two thou' a tooth, the foreign powder blue
Bad bitch from Chicago tryna pull up on me at the Fontainebleau
Had a fifty on me at TSA, they was all new, they was all blue
I ain't count shit and you ain't keeping shit, tell your supervisor better fall through
Line him up for a booby trap, bottle service at the Boobietrap
Gucci on me, no Coogi hat, big dawg, no Scooby Snack
My ex fucked my enemy, but I ain't being petty, tryna get her back
Just tell him keep my name out his mouth, 'cause that sneak dissing gon' get him whacked, it's Philthy

[Money Man:]
I'm tryna get the Louis, these Cartiers confusing
These shoes are Versace, I don't [?]
My exotic so potent, my bitches, they chose, they Italian, they smoking
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfucking poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feeling so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
I just hit the lil' bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixing my soda, my heart just be colder

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?