Clipse, Ab-Liva, Pharrell Williams, Roscoe P. Coldchain - Cot Damn lyrics
Pharrell Williams [Pharrell Lanscilo Williams] Virginia Beach, Virginia, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Clipse, Ab-Liva, Pharrell Williams, Roscoe P. Coldchain - Cot Damn lyrics]
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh hoo, uh, cot damn (Uh)
They just can't understand or
Fathom 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 mistook me for a rapper, huh?
Well, that makes me an actor
'cause I would rather clap a gun
And buck on them niggas who 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
Nah, bitch, I'm liable to splatter ya shit
Light up ya world 'til you
Start to stagger and shit
Watch how them hollows straight
Rattle ya shit and I'll leave it to y'all to
Freestyle and battle and shit that's not me
I'm more at home with the chrome
Or at play wit the yay
Moving twelve for a zone, i'm gone
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
God damn, when that white hit's the pan it
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
Gorilla
Trait's of a blow dealer course my veins
I hustle, I'm rich, blow scrilla
I'm the torch that carry the game
The flame I throw
Crack change came from blow
Push the Os, six lay close
Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows
Thug the streets, my love is deep
My pain shows my heart's on the sleeve, uh
Nigga that they gave they soul
And hearts to deceit you
Nigga told, they breaking my
Heart on the streets, so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies
We pop-pop, drop you, homie
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
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 that money, I get stealth
Three guns is fortune, and I
Don't mind sharing my wealth, dawg
I know about life
I been around the world thrice times
I mean what I say from that Panama sun
To France's Champs-Élysées
Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away
To sell base is now somewhat therapeutic
Hear what I say, please don't confuse it
My verses heal like Curt Mayfield's music
(I'm your pusha)
Damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
I'll be damned if I die from starvation
Things is fucked up as is
So I bangs my cabbage
Do you wanna know the most
Effective way of gettin' money?
Pull your gun rapidly, and watch
You'll see the situation be corrected
Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish?
They say what you do comes
Back on you two times i shoulda been died
But I'm still walking around with 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's fate witness
Naturally spitting from the human gat
Filled to the limit here to diminish loud
Niggas talking gibberish
You want beef? I deliver
It with complimentary service
For certain, live in the living room
Searching and hurting you
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh hoo, uh, cot damn
Dear Diary here I am, once again
Writing you 'bout this bitch-ass nigga
You know I was fuckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to been a creep thang
I understood about his bitch, I accepted her
But then he gon' come with this bullshit
You know, after I had time invested
In this motherfucker
He gon' tell me, you know
"Things need to change a lil' bit
We need to slow down a little bit"
Slow down for what? Not for that bitch!
I know you not tryna slow down with
Me for that motherfucking raggedy-ass bitch
Yo' girl this, yo' girl that
Your girl is a motherfucking fake
Wearing all that fake-ass shit
She buying out of somebody
Else's motherfucking truck
See, one thing 'bout me
I'm an authentic bitch
I put yo' motherfucking ass on
And you still buy her fake motherfucking shit
Her and that teeny lil'-ass motherfucking car
You gon' throw some cheap-ass twenty
Dollar rims on that motherfucker
And you think you
Got some-motherfucking-body?
Bitch, you ain't got no motherfucking-body
I showed you the motherfucking ropes
I showed you how to motherfucking dress
With that little bit of money
That you had at that
Point in motherfucking time
I drained yo' motherfucking ass
I drained yo' motherfucking ass broke
Then you
Here you gon' riding 'round in a '95 car
Tryna get it souped-up to a 2002, bitch
Motherfucker
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh hoo, uh, cot damn (Uh)
They just can't understand or
Fathom 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 mistook me for a rapper, huh?
Well, that makes me an actor
'cause I would rather clap a gun
And buck on them niggas who 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
Nah, bitch, I'm liable to splatter ya shit
Light up ya world 'til you
Start to stagger and shit
Watch how them hollows straight
Rattle ya shit and I'll leave it to y'all to
Freestyle and battle and shit that's not me
I'm more at home with the chrome
Or at play wit the yay
Moving twelve for a zone, i'm gone
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
God damn, when that white hit's the pan it
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
Gorilla
Trait's of a blow dealer course my veins
I hustle, I'm rich, blow scrilla
I'm the torch that carry the game
The flame I throw
Crack change came from blow
Push the Os, six lay close
Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows
Thug the streets, my love is deep
My pain shows my heart's on the sleeve, uh
Nigga that they gave they soul
And hearts to deceit you
Nigga told, they breaking my
Heart on the streets, so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies
We pop-pop, drop you, homie
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
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 that money, I get stealth
Three guns is fortune, and I
Don't mind sharing my wealth, dawg
I know about life
I been around the world thrice times
I mean what I say from that Panama sun
To France's Champs-Élysées
Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away
To sell base is now somewhat therapeutic
Hear what I say, please don't confuse it
My verses heal like Curt Mayfield's music
(I'm your pusha)
Damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
I'll be damned if I die from starvation
Things is fucked up as is
So I bangs my cabbage
Do you wanna know the most
Effective way of gettin' money?
Pull your gun rapidly, and watch
You'll see the situation be corrected
Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish?
They say what you do comes
Back on you two times i shoulda been died
But I'm still walking around with 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's fate witness
Naturally spitting from the human gat
Filled to the limit here to diminish loud
Niggas talking gibberish
You want beef? I deliver
It with complimentary service
For certain, live in the living room
Searching and hurting you
Cot damn it's a new day
Cot damn but that nigga wanted money
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh hoo, uh, cot damn
Dear Diary here I am, once again
Writing you 'bout this bitch-ass nigga
You know I was fuckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to been a creep thang
I understood about his bitch, I accepted her
But then he gon' come with this bullshit
You know, after I had time invested
In this motherfucker
He gon' tell me, you know
"Things need to change a lil' bit
We need to slow down a little bit"
Slow down for what? Not for that bitch!
I know you not tryna slow down with
Me for that motherfucking raggedy-ass bitch
Yo' girl this, yo' girl that
Your girl is a motherfucking fake
Wearing all that fake-ass shit
She buying out of somebody
Else's motherfucking truck
See, one thing 'bout me
I'm an authentic bitch
I put yo' motherfucking ass on
And you still buy her fake motherfucking shit
Her and that teeny lil'-ass motherfucking car
You gon' throw some cheap-ass twenty
Dollar rims on that motherfucker
And you think you
Got some-motherfucking-body?
Bitch, you ain't got no motherfucking-body
I showed you the motherfucking ropes
I showed you how to motherfucking dress
With that little bit of money
That you had at that
Point in motherfucking time
I drained yo' motherfucking ass
I drained yo' motherfucking ass broke
Then you
Here you gon' riding 'round in a '95 car
Tryna get it souped-up to a 2002, bitch
Motherfucker