Ice Box Part 2
(专辑: The Cold Corner 2 - 2011)
South Jamaica, hungry my nigga, don't be the
lunch I
be on P's & Q's, purple and blues, breathin blunts Funny thing the
dough came, never thought about leavin once There's a
few chosen, we were brought up to be the
bunch You been in it a
couple years I
spent a
decade paid I
shine all year, your neck on shade, motherfucker I'm Gettin to it double time, young fly bastard acid #9 Keep 'em close, homies be the
one that slime I'm outta here, on my way to the
moon Blendin in with the
stars, put your cameras on zoom Who the
man that's caught a
slug, he'll be an animal soon His daddy on base, his momma got her hand on the
spoon They ain't fuckin with the
school, to them the
dealers look cool Little do they know in ten years, they'd be in jail or entombed The
youth follow it through, he bangin red or bang blue He give a
fuck about dem, they give a
fuck about you I
got my ears to the
street, one eye open when I
sleep Car full of heat in case a
nigga try to creep Got a
broad so sweet when she set a
nigga up Knock your sole off your feet, money never get enough No trust, we don't trust a
damn thing Ice water running through my vein, I'm so cold Watch me while I
do my damn thing Got a
neck full of gold and I'm in the
get-the-dough mode Way too much drama going on to be calm Get out the
way or be harmed, cause the
neighborhood Vietnam I
got it now, haters praying to see it gone Teflon on my chest wrong player, you be the
pawn Takes me out the
bullshit, run your lip and get beat upon I'm full speed in that beamer and you want my freedom gone Ridin where the
riders died, young black and qualified Fame gets them to suck you, makin it makes 'em swallow right I'm the
survival type, cool as the
champion on title night And VVS bait makin the
models bite Bright as the
morning all time of night Red and green striped Impala white, bricks to Bahama light Homi every time I
write, flow 900 degrees farenheit Fly as a
fuck, flyin to paradise Grab a
camera, film my flick, so you can have it twice Haters still poppin shit, look I
got my ears to the
street, one eye open when I
sleep Car full of heat in case a
nigga try to creep Got a
broad so sweet when she set a
nigga up Knock your sole off your feet, money never get enough No trust, we don't trust a
damn thing Ice water running through my vein, I'm so cold Watch me while I
do my damn thing Got a
neck full of gold and I'm in the
get-the-dough mode Work wonders with words, ain't no telling why I
took 'em Bet these stupid niggas can't read – easier to book 'em Splattered walls, do 'em like graffiti when I
cook 'em Stink sound, probably while my BDS is wolfing Hood favorite, probably had my CD when they took 'em And I'm so high, which makes it easier to overlook 'em South Jamaica hoodlum in that big boy, the
good one You shook son, wouldn't be here if you could come Maybe I'm misunderstood hon, cause it's obvious I'm judged And the
hate's the
new love, smell up the
lobby with the
drugs You broke you need game, and the
Ferrari you get bugged You done ran your run into the
ground, it's time that you get snubbed Still no love