This Cold World Lyrics - Singles - Lord Tariq & Peter Gunz

(chinese drums and bells combine in a beat) 

[older voice starts singing] 

[Chorus 1] 

In this cold world, no matter where I go the crowds are all the same 

(uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know) 

To them I'm just a pebble in the sand, a face...without a name 

[Verse 1] 

Ya niggas would never understand the calibur I'm reppin' 

Hoes that I'm sexin', cribs that I've slept in 

Cars and stashboxes cash and glocks is kept in 

Talk how I'm steppin', representin' the weapon 

Sex, money and murder - have it, got it and do it 

Set it, plot it to get it 

Southeast BX, the Soundview area 

Black Lex GS tan leather interior 

Moves in Atlanta, meetins' in Alabama 

Cold blue steel under the green bandana 

I copped raw yay on Broadway from bananas 

Hoop fully eqipped wit chips and scanners 

Not a motherfuckin' shit? uh 

I see through yuor propaganda 

Yo partner told me yo' paper proper in Savanna 

If life's a bitch..I gotta have her 

Whateva! Ain't shit gonna work unles we all work together. 

[chorus 2] 

In this cold world, I struggle to survive and sometimes I would fall 

(uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know) 

You think someone would lend a helpin hand, they choose to see me crawl 

[Verse 2] 

Yo, Yo I had dreams I pitched quarters wit rich portage 

Drove miles Kin chow's, all in the Feds files 

Back before niggas wrap my chains and rings 

I was teachin New York niggas how to slang them things 

Shit check the credits, no mutes and no edits 

These walkinletters after the cheddar 

blue, red and yellow, it can't get no better 

Fuck banners, bandanas all colors - star-spangled 

From militants and gangstas, I covered all angles 

Do a hit and twist a story until it's all tangled 

Speak when spoken spoken 'cause I undertandthe langua 

{chorus 1} 

[Verse 3] 

Yo, yeah, yo, yo Lord Tariq, Soundview ain't bout it, we of it 

Round the world they respect my gangsta, gotta love it 

Laws made to be broken, I'm tall - I stand above it 

Stashin keys in a sugar bowl, inside the cupboard 

Rap nigga, billion dollar industry to Bronx, I'm of it 

Step wide, if you steppin wrong - get you stomped or smothered 

- got undercovers through the jet, sun covered 

- got beat walkers runnin out out the jets like faggots 

- got niggas sellin gats 

- got gangstas sellin hoes and hash for twenty-foura grand 

know your math 

- got newborn G's break a scheme and plot 

- got forever thugs - they 40 and still on the block 

- got niggas in they jetsuits - gun don't pop? 

I think not, you gotta blast to get what little we got 

Got coke crack and crack to smack spots 

No main roads, just boondocks and back blocks in... 

{chorus 2} 

[Verse 4] 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yeah, yo 

Ya niggas feel froggy? then leap, yeah, you hard wit the heat 

But I'm hard to defeat, the Lord-to-the-Riq 

Bow down, say a payer, knees to the concrete 

Take you off on your feet, have you barf on the street 

Don't even bother to speak 

'cause Bronx here, game's over 

Lows the lazarus? to get you high, beat ya sober 

Tech flame spit wit more range than a Rover 

4.8 gats knockin 'jay-hovas' 

Ya