Colded

If I want it, I’ma get it—

You should really go and give it,

‘Fore it’s missin’ and I’m talkin’

To anything, I wanna get it.

I be spoiled like your bitches,

This was yours—now it isn’t.

No it isn’t. Tell me what’s your hustle,

What’s your mission?

I’ll ride up on you,

Slide up on you, rob you, then I’m dippin’,

Living vicious—yeah, I caught you

Slippin’, flippin’, floppin’, trippin’.

Plotting, watching, waiting—

That lame slid a little, then he start ice-skating.

Still got this dirty piss test waitin’ for probation,

Me? I’m very patient.

I be rockin’ like Obama

Did against the nations.

Talk about a perp—perpetratin’?

I’ll air it out, deflatin’.

Fucking on the game and I’m fucking Satan,

Dick start chafin’, shit is irritatin’.

Y’all livin’ in the land of the takin’,

Now you left with nothin’.

I change your name to Nathan—

Away with it, away with it.

Why they lookin’ like the little kids

I’m gon’ have to babysit?

Babysit—

All up in the mix of a bunch of

“Who know what the fuck” shit.

I get with all that fun shit,

Active in a function—ain’t no fuckin’ punk shit.

Quick to lay you in this trunk, quick.

And that’s what you gotta do—

You gotta go.

Dip, dip, off a junkie little bitch

Who talk a lotta shit,

Most that shit makes no fuckin’ sense.

So I gotta go—

Dip and get up out the way hella quick.

Say what you say,

You fuckin’ bum bitch