I walked away and I lived too cold
This goes out.
This what y'all niggaz all been looking for.
A little story for all my brothers.
You know what I'm saying? Sons of Man return.
We gon' walk on by and keep it moving.
Just when it got cold.
Cold Sons we got jewels, we gon' walk on by and keep it moving.
Check it. Moving. Word up.
Aiyyo, my thoughts be colorless
The undercover rich, haters loving it, watch the hell King Tut with it
Queen's, bathtubbing it, my diamond's cutting it
Sharp and on point, fuck the tricks of the government
Money rules the world, watch my people suffering
Cops busting in, handcuffing men 'til they wrist bleed
Some read what they don't need, give to seed
Black, Lebanese, rabbis in green fatigues
Microphone masked emcees, Maccabees
Hard head emcees get told and still they freeze
The truth came in flesh but still you don't believe
The best thing you know is the spots to find weed
Get the knowledge dungarees, we still struggling
Sons of Man, UK keep it bubbling
We come to clubs, like the ones who bring the trouble in
What, he sold his soul, life publishing
Have to walk on by and keep it moving
I reminisce all my dark days whenever I phase and kept a blaze
Y'all mental slave renegades, wasn't enough to eliminate
In my lifestyle of hard times and good times
Stood mine with the wines, became nice with the mind
Born intelligent, fuck elegant, I represent
For the ladies and gents, delinquents and presents
Everyday hungry, gun play on the sunny
Crews sweeter than honey, stars fuck for all they money
Stupid dummies, fifteen slugs flood the tummy
Thugs rapped like mummies, sipping Remy's
The clip empty, feeling shifty, swifty
Highly intoxicated, simply infatuated
Never thought he could be faded
Up in the hospital, critical, eating pickles
With no teeth, back on the streets he got beef for little Keith and Tariff
A walking death wish, living selfish, I sort of felt this
The fifth of September, he felt helpless and breathless
Today, life, shoot out, a dice game, bank loot out
Jewels out, laying on three hundred dollar sweaters
Tools out, last day schools out, nine birettas and better
Carry the eighth or red leather, timberland weather gear
Hands in the air, this is a stick up, don't play for hiccups
You won't need a body pick-up, money in the laundry bag
Hungry comrades get they guns from Arabs
With the loot that they had, they rob more victims on the av.
Today cash, examples of the program
Lord Sun of Man, stop killing your own relatives
Unknown start giving the liquid to the dry bones,
We all came from the same throne
Raise the dead with the brain poem, one is aimed home
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
"Cold" as written by Timothy A. James Melvern Rivers Ii Rutherford
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
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