Flee Lord, Grafh - Cold Outside lyrics

My nigga, Flee
Told me some real shit the other day
(From the ghettos worldwide) it inspired me
Word  (From the ghettos worldwide)
Niggas like us, from the bottom
Could actually make it out
For real (From the ghettos worldwide)
Like for real, though

Ay, ay, ay, ay, yeh mama saying
‘Come back home’ cause if I get locked
Will I come back home or get sent upstate
And not know what’s up back home
And get football numbers and come back grown
Cause I done did what I did for a dolla
If you a fiend, nigga, holla (What’s up)
Cause I got what you ask for
It’s fresh off of the boat
Like it need a passport
Off of them foreign cars
With expensive leather on the dashboard
Nigga, my cash part i’m fast forward
You asked for it i am the block
I am Martin am the Rock
Without Uncle Sam’s hand in the pot
Servin’ ham sandwiches
Not salmon and lobster
Yeah, and it’s impostor
It’s the Phantom of the Opera
Handing out grams of the rock
Baking soda in the pan with Ciroc
When you stand as a black man
You got to be handling pop color
Look at the CAT scan from your doctor (Man)
Poor healthcare we need more help here (Uh)
You ain’t poor enough
They take you off welfare
That’s the bottom, you heard uh, ahhh

Man, it’s so cold outside
It’s so cold outside (Ghettos worldwide)
If you not prepared, my nigga
Don’t go outside, no (Ghettos worldwide)
Another day, another dollar (Uh)
Somebody Mama gon’ cry
(Somebody Mama gon’ cry, my nigga)
Tell her don’t cry (No) don’t cry (No)
Don’t cry, no (Ay, ay)

It’s freezing outside (Sheesh)
They ain’t eatin’
Kids is sleepin outside (Foo)
But not literally, though
Deliver my flow, it’s always
Filled up with snow (Clean that shit up)
Grew up off of EBT and Food Stamps
Whatchu know bout eating free
Lunch at youth camps
(I don’t know about that, man)
Don’t cry, Mama i know I’m selling pies
With no bow ties, Mama (RIP, Ma)
Team full of crazy niggas
Fiend for a babysitter niggas on the scene
Gettin’ cream since the ‘90s with us
Young raws, we was ones to down Spaghetti-Os
Three up out the dime sack, a black
You already know now travel and kick
The bowels’ll spit (Brrr)
Man, I’ll tackle your bitch
Smoke a cape nigga mack on a bitch
They always hate on ya after you rich lord

Man, it’s so cold outside
It’s so cold outside (Ghettos worldwide)
If you not prepared, my nigga
Don’t go outside, no (Ghettos worldwide)
Another day, another dollar (Uh)
Somebody Mama gon’ cry
(Somebody Mama gon’ cry, my nigga)
Tell her don’t cry (No) don’t cry (No)
Don’t cry, no (Ay, ay)