The Cold Room - S2-E2

Lyrics

[Intro] LJS on the beat Elevate, this mix sounds mad Kaya Beats Shout out my boy, Ditto Let me talk my shit All this smoke man's givin' all the tours I did How many man more I think? Ace and Grinna, the rawest slim And his lil bro sure don't swim Let's put another nigga in the morgue Spin right back, put more on him Ayy, Tweeko mixed this, you know, it sounds cold [Verse] Let me talk my shit All this smoke man's givin' all the tours I did How many man more I think? Ace and Grinna, the rawest slim And his lil bro sure don't swim Let's put another nigga in the morgue Spin right back, put more on him I got Young Dizz in my blade, and bro got AB on his spinner At least 5 AM's on that skeng though 4-10 got a couple man on that dotts Free TT my nigga Filthy when he waves his digger Pissed, probably jammed on me, but my CGE's brought back Young Grinna Blacks, remember when we knocked down Ginger and his own bredrins rubbed out Bane? And I got couple man on my finger, brudda, who you got on your name? 'Bout 017, you chopped it, we did the get back for your plane That year, Grin got dropped, and Trix got shot and Ace rolled out his grave Not even half of what the mandem did They got randoms and kids And I've been every block I'm beefin' And I spilled juice, "Go there", I did And I still take smoke go round and round, still tryna smoke man, no fibs Still smoke your dead boy pound for a pound, still tryna smoke more, no shit Seven on my back, no, I don't take orders That's Woody and Waters MVP, I'm very important I've been runnin' this shit in my Jordan Drillin' on streets, how many have fallen? No stallin', I'll corn him, no warnin' No get-backs for your dead friends, appallin' Yes, I'm tryna show disrespect Hashtag respectfully, I ain't even tryna sneak diss on net But how many man have we left on E? Feds know that I sleep with a burner And I still got one in the head, and I wish Grins got hit with the spins Still got the point, oh well, he's dead This one's not for the radio Put on your boots, press play, we go Me and my nephew Wray we know Splittin' the more, the more we show Stick it all in, it's gory, bro Dot-dots or the .38, yeah, I got options I ain't even tryna tell stories, yo, but gang went and slapped up my man's marj Swear you're my man's darg And I would've shot up my man's yard, but I swear that my man's fast Oh yeah, we did kick up my man's arse in court, couldn't find his pass Been doin' this shit from my tiny class, now, I catch him and bine his clart Paintin' blood, it's a violent art