Cot Damn
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Ooh, ooh, ooh, uh, cot damn
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 that play wit' the yay, movin' 12 for a zone, I'm gone
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Cot 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, gorilla
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 sleevea
Nigga that they gave they soul and hearts to mistreat you
Nigga told, they breakin' my heart on the streets, so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies
We pop, pop, drop you homie
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
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 sharin' my wealth, dog
I know about life, I been around the world thrice times
I mean what I say, from that Panama sun, the French Champs-Elysees
Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away
The sell base is now, somewhat therapeutic
Hear what I say, please don't confuse it
My verses heal, like Curt Mayfield's music
(Are you a pusha?)
Damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Damn, if I die from starvation, things is fucked up as is
So I bangs for my cabbage
Do you wanna know the most affective way of gettin' money?
Pull yo' gun, rapid
Leave 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 walkin' around wit' two .9s
Who wants to be a millionaire? Me, and you ain't got no more lifelines
You a snitch nigga fightin' crime, go ahead and tell the police
'Cause every move you make, I'ma throw a slug
And I hope you choke blood, nigga on every breath you take
Not to be broke, 'cause Coldchain fate witness
Natural spittin' from me, human gat, filled to the limit
Head to the menace, loud niggas talking gibberish
Ground beef, I deliver it, with complimentary service, for certain
Live in the livin' room, searchin' to hurtin' you
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Cot damn
Dear Diary, here I am once again writing to you
'Bout this bitch-ass nigga
You know I was fuckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to be a creep thang
I understood about his bitch a'ight, I accepted her
But then he gon' come with this bullshit
You know I thought I had time invested in this motherfucker
He gon' tell me, you know, "Things need to change a lil bit
We need to slow down a lil bit"
Slow down for what?! Not for that bitch!
I know you not tryna slow down with me for that motherfucking raggedy ass bitch
Yo' girl this, yo' girl that
Your girl is a motherfucking fake wearing all that fake ass shit
She buying out of somebody else's motherfucking truck
See, one thing 'bout me, I'm an authentic bitch
I put yo' motherfucking ass on it
You still buy her fake motherfucking shit
Her and that teeny lil' ass motherfucking car
You gon' throw some cheap ass
20 dollar rims on that motherfucker
You think you got some motherfucking bag?
Bitch, you ain't got no motherfucking bag
I showed you the motherfucking ropes
I showed you how to motherfucking dress
With that lil' bit of money that you had
At that point in motherfucking time
I drained yo' motherfucking ass
I drained yo' motherfucking ass broke
And here you gon' riding 'round in a '95 car
Tryna get a 2002 bitch motherfuckin'...
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Ooh, ooh, ooh, uh, cot damn
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 that play wit' the yay, movin' 12 for a zone, I'm gone
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Cot 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, gorilla
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 sleevea
Nigga that they gave they soul and hearts to mistreat you
Nigga told, they breakin' my heart on the streets, so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies
We pop, pop, drop you homie
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
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 sharin' my wealth, dog
I know about life, I been around the world thrice times
I mean what I say, from that Panama sun, the French Champs-Elysees
Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away
The sell base is now, somewhat therapeutic
Hear what I say, please don't confuse it
My verses heal, like Curt Mayfield's music
(Are you a pusha?)
Damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Damn, if I die from starvation, things is fucked up as is
So I bangs for my cabbage
Do you wanna know the most affective way of gettin' money?
Pull yo' gun, rapid
Leave 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 walkin' around wit' two .9s
Who wants to be a millionaire? Me, and you ain't got no more lifelines
You a snitch nigga fightin' crime, go ahead and tell the police
'Cause every move you make, I'ma throw a slug
And I hope you choke blood, nigga on every breath you take
Not to be broke, 'cause Coldchain fate witness
Natural spittin' from me, human gat, filled to the limit
Head to the menace, loud niggas talking gibberish
Ground beef, I deliver it, with complimentary service, for certain
Live in the livin' room, searchin' to hurtin' you
Cot damn, it's a new day
Cot damn, but the nigga wanted money
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Cot damn
Dear Diary, here I am once again writing to you
'Bout this bitch-ass nigga
You know I was fuckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to be a creep thang
I understood about his bitch a'ight, I accepted her
But then he gon' come with this bullshit
You know I thought I had time invested in this motherfucker
He gon' tell me, you know, "Things need to change a lil bit
We need to slow down a lil bit"
Slow down for what?! Not for that bitch!
I know you not tryna slow down with me for that motherfucking raggedy ass bitch
Yo' girl this, yo' girl that
Your girl is a motherfucking fake wearing all that fake ass shit
She buying out of somebody else's motherfucking truck
See, one thing 'bout me, I'm an authentic bitch
I put yo' motherfucking ass on it
You still buy her fake motherfucking shit
Her and that teeny lil' ass motherfucking car
You gon' throw some cheap ass
20 dollar rims on that motherfucker
You think you got some motherfucking bag?
Bitch, you ain't got no motherfucking bag
I showed you the motherfucking ropes
I showed you how to motherfucking dress
With that lil' bit of money that you had
At that point in motherfucking time
I drained yo' motherfucking ass
I drained yo' motherfucking ass broke
And here you gon' riding 'round in a '95 car
Tryna get a 2002 bitch motherfuckin'...
Credits
Writer(s): Pharrell Williams, Chad Hugo, Terrence Thornton, Gene Thornton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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