Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Clipse. Lord Willin'. Cot' Damn.


(Chorus - Pharrell)
Cot' damn, it's a new day
Cot' damn, but the nigga wanted money
Hoooo, hoooo, hoooo
Cot' damn

(Verse 1 - Malice)
Uh, they just can't understand or phathom 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 miss took me for a rapper huh
Well that makes me an actor, cause I would rather clap a gun
And buck on them niggas that 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, ravel ya shit
And I leave it to y'all, to freestyle and battle and shit
That's not me, I'm all at home wit the chrome
Or that play wit the yay, moving 12 for a zone, I'm gone

(Chorus - Pharrell)
Cot' damn, it's a new day
Cot' damn, but the nigga wanted money

(Verse 2 - Ab-Liva)
God damn, when that white hits the pen 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'ma toss 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 homey

(Chorus - Pharrell)
Cot' damn, it's a new day
Cot' damn, but the nigga wanted money

[Verse 3 - Pusha T and (Pharrell)]
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 the money, I get stealth
Three guns is fortune, and I don't mind sharing wealth
Dog, I know about my life, I been around the world thrice times
I mean what I say, from that Panama sun, the French chanzalize
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 Curtis Mayfield's music
(Are you a pusher), damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner

(Chorus - Pharrell)
Cot' damn, it's a new day
Cot' damn, but the nigga wanted money

(Verse 4 - Roscoe P. Coldchain)
I been if I die of starvation, things is fucked up as is
So I bangs my cab-bage
Do you not know the most affective way of gettin' money
Pull yo gun, ra-pid
Lee watch you see the situation be corrected
You know happens, why must I be 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'ma 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, hearing the gat, field to the limit
Head to the menace, loud niggas talking gibberish
Ground beef, I deliver it, you cock the mineral shirt, for certain
Live in the living room, searching to hurting you

(Chorus - Pharrell)
Cot' damn, it's a new day
Cot' damn, but the nigga wanted money
Hoooo, hoooo, hoooo
Cot' damn

(Skit at end of the track begins)
Ostatnio wyszukiwane