Cold Til I Die (feat. Kid Kylo)
Cold til I die
Really 5'7 but I feel like 6'5
Getting all the girls cuz I've never been shy
Got the blonde hair nice teeth brown eyes
I can take your girly and I wouldn't have to try
And then we pass her back cuz I never got the time
I can do it all eyes closed hands tied
I can run it all night til we outside
Say she want an athlete
With good hands
Say we hit the West Coast
A good tan
Say she wanna laugh a lot
A good mans
Honey I got what you need plus I got a few bands
Posted out in Malibu
Big vibes
Shorty hidden in the Hills
Big buys
Shorty working in the gym
Big thighs
Come and catch us at the crib
Poolside
Savage individual keep the bullshit to minimum
Got so many chains on you think I'm a criminal
Got the garden out back
Everything is medicinal
Couple hundred on the dash
All that is digital
So she running to the bank smoking on that original
Even on an empty tank and I'm leaving you critical
Sipping on Pinnacle got her sucking like a tentacle
My girl went on a date and the bitches were identical
Like a twin engine they getting my attention
Fucking a bad bitch in the back of a Benz and we wrecked it
Car cost more than my pension
Now that you mention the drugs that I took got me switching dimensions
Just robbed a crib and his bitch in my mentions
Now pay for the job I just came for redemption
His car in the ditch I guess now I'm ascending
My wrist cold like polar ice
She blacked out like my suit and tie
Bentayga parked by the DB9
I lock them both then I go inside
I hit the alarm and I'm hitting it raw
My head hit the pillow my girl hit a yawn
I woke to a sound that I heard from downstairs
I put on my boots and I'm racking the gun
My spirit been lacking
I'm tryna be mindful
All dividends that I spent on a rifle
Ivory towers
Eye on the Eiffel
Even when I'm living in my head Imma smile
Even when I'm headed to the court Imma style
Christian
Dior
Win another trial
But everybody lose from time to time
If you can't meet your burden then there isn't a crime
Then I saw the broken glass on the floor
The car port empty the Benzo gone
But I had an Airtag stashed in the airbag so I'm hopping
In the Aston and I'm coming for blood
High speed chase
Hot pursuit of the music Imma make this motherfucker face
Got him in a ditch laying next to a dead bitch
Rack the four-five now he sitting at the pearly gates
Really 5'7 but I feel like 6'5
Getting all the girls cuz I've never been shy
Got the blonde hair nice teeth brown eyes
I can take your girly and I wouldn't have to try
And then we pass her back cuz I never got the time
I can do it all eyes closed hands tied
I can run it all night til we outside
Say she want an athlete
With good hands
Say we hit the West Coast
A good tan
Say she wanna laugh a lot
A good mans
Honey I got what you need plus I got a few bands
Posted out in Malibu
Big vibes
Shorty hidden in the Hills
Big buys
Shorty working in the gym
Big thighs
Come and catch us at the crib
Poolside
Savage individual keep the bullshit to minimum
Got so many chains on you think I'm a criminal
Got the garden out back
Everything is medicinal
Couple hundred on the dash
All that is digital
So she running to the bank smoking on that original
Even on an empty tank and I'm leaving you critical
Sipping on Pinnacle got her sucking like a tentacle
My girl went on a date and the bitches were identical
Like a twin engine they getting my attention
Fucking a bad bitch in the back of a Benz and we wrecked it
Car cost more than my pension
Now that you mention the drugs that I took got me switching dimensions
Just robbed a crib and his bitch in my mentions
Now pay for the job I just came for redemption
His car in the ditch I guess now I'm ascending
My wrist cold like polar ice
She blacked out like my suit and tie
Bentayga parked by the DB9
I lock them both then I go inside
I hit the alarm and I'm hitting it raw
My head hit the pillow my girl hit a yawn
I woke to a sound that I heard from downstairs
I put on my boots and I'm racking the gun
My spirit been lacking
I'm tryna be mindful
All dividends that I spent on a rifle
Ivory towers
Eye on the Eiffel
Even when I'm living in my head Imma smile
Even when I'm headed to the court Imma style
Christian
Dior
Win another trial
But everybody lose from time to time
If you can't meet your burden then there isn't a crime
Then I saw the broken glass on the floor
The car port empty the Benzo gone
But I had an Airtag stashed in the airbag so I'm hopping
In the Aston and I'm coming for blood
High speed chase
Hot pursuit of the music Imma make this motherfucker face
Got him in a ditch laying next to a dead bitch
Rack the four-five now he sitting at the pearly gates
Credits
Writer(s): Kennedy Parker
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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