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Cot Damn (ft. Ab-Liva & Roscoe P Coldchain)

Cot' damn! It's a new day!

Cot' damn! But the nigga wanted money!

Hou! Hou! Hou!

Cot' damn!Uh, they just can't understand or fathom my demeanor

Unapproachable appearance to how I pack the ninas

Out of two, Clipse they say Malice the meanest

Got love for guns and caine, let nothin' come between us

You mistook me for a rapper, huh

Well that makes me an actor, cause I would rather clap a gun

And buck on them niggas who hate

Who wanna be in my shoes, live my life, but can't carry my weight

I understand that the envy is part of the game

But make no mistake, you and I, we are not the same

Naw, bitch, I'm liable to splatter ya shit

Light up ya world, 'til you start to stagger and shit

Watch how them hollows straight rattle ya shit

And I leave it to y'all, to freestyle and battle and shit

That's not me, I'm more at home wit the chrome

Or at play wit the yay, moving 12 for a zone, I'm goneCot' damn! It's a new day!

Cot' damn! But the nigga wanted money!

Hou! Hou! Hou!

Cot' damn!God damn, when that white hits the pan and

Comes back hard, I can account for every gram and

The streets molded the man I am

The pimp, the hustler, the crook, the killer, go-rilla

Traits of a blow dealer, cost my fame

I hustle, I'm rich, blow scrilla

I'm the torch that, carry the game

The flame I throw, crack change came from blow

Push the O's, six lay close

Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows

Thug the streets, my love is deep, my pain shows

My hearts on a sleeve-a

Nigga that they gave they soul and hearts to mistreat you

Nigga told, they breaking my heart on the streets so

Watch the phonies, watch ya homies

We pop-pop, DROP you homeyCot' damn! It's a new day!

Cot' damn! But the nigga wanted money!

Hou! Hou! Hou!

Cot' damn!They call me Pusha for one reason

Cause I keep that sniff all seasons

Whether the price is up or down

I keep a mound to pitch from, you don't have to shop around

When it come to that money, I get stealth

Three guns is fortune, and I don't mind sharing my wealth

Dog, I know about my life

I been around the world thrice times, I mean what I say

From that Panama sun, to France's Champs-Élysées

Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away

To sell base is now somewhat therapeutic

Hear what I say, please don't confuse it

My verses heal, like Curt Mayfield's music

(I'm your pusha!), damn right

I treat ya nose to hook ya

And only pull back to cook ya, partnerCot' damn! It's a new day!

Cot' damn! But the nigga wanted money!

Hou! Hou! Hou!

Cot' damn!I be damned if I die of starvation, things is fucked up as is

So I bangs my cabbage; do you not know the most effective

Way of gettin' money, pull yo gun, rapidly

And watch you see the situation be corrected

Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish

They say whatcha do comes back on you two times

I shoulda been died, but I'm still walking around wit two nines

Who wants to be a millionaire, me, and you ain't got no more life lines

You a snitch nigga fighting crime, go ahead and tell the police

Cause every move you make, I'mma throw a slug

And hope you choke blood, nigga, on every breath you take

Not to be broke, cause Coldchain fate witness

Naturally spitting from me, human gat, field to the limit

Head to diminish, loud niggas talking gibberish

Grind beef, I deliver it, with complimentary service, for certain

Live in the living room, searching to hurting youCot' damn! It's a new day!

Cot' damn! But the nigga wanted money!

Hou! Hou! Hou!

Cot' damn!

Songwriters

Williams, Pharrell L / Thornton Jr, Gene Elliott / Hugo, Chad / Thornton, Terrence Le Varr / Porter, Amir / East, RennardPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., SONGS MUSIC PUBLISHING Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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