This Cold World Lyrics

Lord Tariq

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    [Chorus 1]
    In this cold world, no matter where I go the crowds are all the same
    (uh huh huh huh uh huh letem know)
    To them I'm just a pebble in the sand, a face...without a name
    [Verse 1]
    Ya niggas would never understand the calibur I'm reppin'
    Hoes that I'm sexin', cribs that I've slept in
    Cars and stashboxes cash and glocks is kept in
    Talk how I'm steppin', representin' the weapon
    Sex, money and murder - have it, got it and do it
    Set it, plot it to get it
    Southeast BX, the Soundview area
    Black Lex GS tan leather interior
    Moves in Atlanta, meetins' in Alabama
    Cold blue steel under the green bandana
    I copped raw yay on Broadway from bananas
    Hoop fully eqipped wit chips and scanners
    Not a motherfuckin' shit? uh
    I see through yuor propaganda
    Yo partner told me yo' paper proper in Savanna
    If life's a bitch..I gotta have her
    Whateva! Ain't shit gonna work unles we all work together.
    [chorus 2]
    In this cold world, I struggle to survive and sometimes I would fall
    (uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know)
    You think someone would lend a helpin hand, they choose to see me crawl
    [Verse 2]
    Yo, Yo I had dreams I pitched quarters wit rich portage
    Drove miles Kin chow's, all in the Feds files
    Back before niggas wrap my chains and rings
    I was teachin New York niggas how to slang them things
    Shit check the credits, no mutes and no edits
    These walkinletters after the cheddar
    blue, red and yellow, it can't get no better
    Fuck banners, bandanas all colors - star-spangled
    From militants and gangstas, I covered all angles
    Do a hit and twist a story until it's all tangled
    Speak when spoken spoken cuz I undertandthe langua
    {chorus 1
    [Verse 3]
    Yo, yeah, yo, yo Lord Tariq, Soundview ain't bout it, we of it
    Round the world they respect my gangsta, gotta love it
    Laws made to be broken, I'm tall - I stand above it
    Stashin keys in a sugar bowl, inside the cupboard
    Rap nigga, billion dollar industry to Bronx, I'm of it
    Step wide, if you steppin wrong - get you stomped or smothered
    - got undercovers through the jet, sun covered
    - got beat walkers runnin out out the jets like faggots
    - got niggas sellin gats
    - got gangstas sellin hoes and hash for twenty-foura grand
    know your math
    - got newborn G's break a scheme and plot
    - got forever thugs - they 40 and still on the block
    - got niggas in they jetsuits - gun don't pop?
    I think not, you gotta blast to get what little we got
    Got coke crack and crack to smack spots
    No main roads, just boondocks and back blocks in...
    {chorus 2
    [Verse 4]
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yeah, yo
    Ya niggas feel froggy? then leap, yeah, you hard wit the heat
    But I'm hard to defeat, the Lord-to-the-Riq
    Bow down, say a payer, knees to the concrete
    Take you off on your feet, have you barf on the street
    Don't even bother to speak
    Cuz Bronx here, game's over
    Lows the lazarus? to get you high, beat ya sober
    Tech flame spit wit more range than a Rover
    4.8 gats knockin 'jay-hovas'
    Ya

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