The Coldest

Ah, nigga still don’t get it
Yeah, bitch, i’m ten toes in it
Fo' sho, G. I
Fo' sho, Gibbs, baby
Shut, baby
Bitch I’m ten toes in it
Not a fake a facade or a cloned image
Got into rap same way I jumped in the streets
With my own spinach
Tryin' to get straight up off this shit just so I can go on livin'
No song spinnin' so I resort to this zone flippin'
Something must be wrong wit em, he takin' this shit for granted
Try to write up in the house with no lights, you’ll understand it
I can’t teach ya how to dougie
But I can teach ya bout this thuggin'
Keepin' it thorough, keep your mouth closed, nigga
Keep it one-hundred
Keep yo hand up out my goddamn pocket
And keep it pushin'
Keep the reefer keep the white
Keep the soft and just keep it cookin'
But keep in mind that any given day you can die for this
As I bag this dope I’m prayin' one day that I could just
Make an honest piece of change, prolly change the way I live
MJ fadeaway, and something niggas can’t defend
Gangsta Gibbs, fresh out the fridge, forty below flow
No introduction needed, cause niggas already know so
The coldest, nigga
You already know this
I’m the motherfuckin' coldest
You sayin' that you did that, lived that
But you ain’t quite this, nigga
Cause you already noticed
I’m the motherfuckin coldest
I keep it really real
Sayin' what the fuck I feel
So let me talk my shit
So what you talkin' bout, bitch?
Really ain’t shit if you ain’t talk bout this
I’m runnin' laps around these rappers scratchin' em off my lists
She off that vodka so it’s hard for her to stay off my dick
Tryin' get rich and let the dollars flow throughout my click
So we can break bread and never ever be broken
Yac toastin', exotic bitches on my balcony smokin
Weed turns them out without a doubt
They mouth about to be open
I let Alicia put her tongue on Valerie while I’m strokin'
But I ain’t Jack Tripper, I’m that nigga plain and simple
Fresh out the G to MTV, check the credentials
Ain’t been a nigga bigger since the Jacksons left the city
Reppin' the hardest niggas ain’t know
That we was rappin' in my city
And regardless if I got support or backin' from my city
They’ll remember me as the the nigga
That got it crackin' for my city, nigga
And on the mic I never have off nights
Cause every line I write is straight frostbite, nigga
The motherfuckin' coldest, bitch
I’m on fire
To keep the streets hot, that’s my desire
And to hell with the labels
Till it’s time for us to sit down at the table
If I don’t focus on me
Tell me, who will?
And I speak from my heart
So you know I’mma keep it real
So much bullshit in the last six months tried to take my focus
But on a lotta situations them people have to hocus pocus
If anybody ever asks a dumb question like «Will BJ make it?»
Give them a dollar and say «God bless you, cause you must be a basehead»