Cold

I live in my head, sleep when I'm dead
Kingliest bed, think Egyptian threads
Christian virtues, thoughts encircle
Seeing them possessed
Missing curfews in their purview
So they chase a check
Just like I rub my eye
Running basic tests
In the night, driving home feeling so alone
Heat on blast, foot on gas, chilling to the bone
Checking on my order as I sing this song
7 years in Florida: how'd I get this cold?

Cold, Cold, Cold
Cold, Cold, Cold
Cold, Cold, Cold
Cold, Cold, Cold

Being honest, I drive in a furnace when the heat's working
Bring August, warming up my surface so I feel certain
Indulgence, got me texting Yassy just to feel something
Impulsive, she look like a stallion, lemme git on it
In Public-

I'mma shell up all myself
Only show the good so you think that I am well
Only tell my Dell, see I'm walking in a cell
Golden handcuffs keep me trapped up in this well
So I spend and spend, make heaven out of hell
When I met Yassy, she was wanting out of jail
So she trick trick, since the age of sixteen
Giving niggas licorice, now she wanna lick me
Like I'm on a hitlist

Cold, Cold, Cold (Like I'm on a hitlist)
Cold, Cold, Cold (Can't be on no hitlist)
Cold, Cold, Cold (Like I'm on a hitlist)
Cold, Cold, Cold (Can't be on no hitlist)



Credits
Writer(s): Oluwole Amosu, Willie Withers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link