Cold

ian (Trap)

Compositor: Ian Smith / kuru

My shoulder got way too cold
I'm starting to turn everybody away from me
My shooter damn way too cold
You better start runnin', he armed and dangerous
I gave you my favorite coat, whatever it costs to call you my bae
You know you my favorite ho'
You make me one call, I'm on my way

Just starting to talk about what's next
I don't think that it look too good for us
And I don't wanna talk 'bout how you feel
Every morning, I doubt if I'm good enough
Keeping in touch every four, five days
I'm starting to think that's not too good for us
I missed my shot, but I hit his haze
This sh—, got kickback, shit go du-du-du

Postponing the shit I did take hard
I'll get back to you tomorrow
I know we was late to the start
But I'm good right here for a while
I'm good right here for the night
We'll make your bed in the morning
Tryna keep my head up high
It's the space right here on my shoulder
It's no one to blame, the feeling's the same
It's still gon' look at us different
I'm losing my brain, been spending my days
Just looking for something that's missing
You play with the gang, we won't leave you one trace
Can't take heat, get out the kitchen
I'm staying the same
I'm paving my way, can't take me out of commission

My shoulder got way too cold
I'm starting to turn everybody away from me
My shooter damn way too cold
You better start runnin', he armed and dangerous
I gave you my favorite coat, whatever it costs to call you my bae
You know you my favorite ho'
You make me one call, I'm on my way (I'm sick of running from myself)

Yeah, fuck it, let's hop in a tank
I like I walk through the bank
And me and my brodies like Ratchet and Clank
Bro, go take a shower, I swear that you stank
Bitch, I'm pourin' up, this ain't even drank
And I know that FK got my flame
Bitch, I'm with my bestie, pockets hefty, and we hop in a Ksubi and Crank (Yuh)
Kane got my sticks, why they talking shit? I don't even understand it (Shit)
I can never quit, I don't, I don't wanna make 'em panic
You ain't even slick, you ain't got a stick, boy, I think you going manic
I ain't wanna admit, your girl throwing hits, I ain't even really plan this (Yuh)
You start pulling my weight, I made it walk for a second then stay
I had to go put the flow on display
I fuck around, put it back to the case
I fuck around, throw a band to your face
I fuck around, and they saying: Hooray
I put the money, hunnid' valley
We make him spin like he doin' ballet
Boy, you been yappin' for years I swear this shit longer then one piece
Better not play with the mob
Can't guarantee that you'll leave, in like one piece
Like, why you keep buying these clothes?
I swear that you couldn't afford your lil' month lease
I don't even wanna be in that country

My shoulder got way too cold
I'm starting to turn everybody away from me
My shooter damn way too cold
You better start runnin', he armed and dangerous
I gave you my favorite coat, whatever it costs to call you my bae
You know you my favorite ho'
You make me one call, I'm on my way

Just starting to talk about what's next
I don't think that it look too good for us
And I don't wanna talk 'bout how you feel
Every morning, I doubt if I'm good enough
Keeping in touch every four, five days
I'm starting to think that's not too good for us
I missed my shot, but I hit his haze
This sh—, got kickback, shit go du-du-du