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(chinese drums and bells combine in a beat)
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[older voice starts singing]
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[Chorus 1]
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In this cold world, no matter where I go the crowds are all the same
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(uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know)
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To them I'm just a pebble in the sand, a face...without a name
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[Verse 1]
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Ya niggas would never understand the calibur I'm reppin'
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Hoes that I'm sexin', cribs that I've slept in
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Cars and stashboxes cash and glocks is kept in
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Talk how I'm steppin', representin' the weapon
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Sex, money and murder - have it, got it and do it
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Set it, plot it to get it
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Southeast BX, the Soundview area
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Black Lex GS tan leather interior
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Moves in Atlanta, meetins' in Alabama
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Cold blue steel under the green bandana
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I copped raw yay on Broadway from bananas
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Hoop fully eqipped wit chips and scanners
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Not a motherfuckin' shit? uh
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I see through yuor propaganda
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Yo partner told me yo' paper proper in Savanna
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If life's a bitch..I gotta have her
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Whateva! Ain't shit gonna work unles we all work together.
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[chorus 2]
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In this cold world, I struggle to survive and sometimes I would fall
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(uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know)
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You think someone would lend a helpin hand, they choose to see me crawl
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[Verse 2]
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Yo, Yo I had dreams I pitched quarters wit rich portage
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Drove miles Kin chow's, all in the Feds files
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Back before niggas wrap my chains and rings
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I was teachin New York niggas how to slang them things
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Shit check the credits, no mutes and no edits
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These walkinletters after the cheddar
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blue, red and yellow, it can't get no better
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Fuck banners, bandanas all colors - star-spangled
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From militants and gangstas, I covered all angles
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Do a hit and twist a story until it's all tangled
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Speak when spoken spoken cuz I undertandthe langua
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{chorus 1}
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[Verse 3]
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Yo, yeah, yo, yo Lord Tariq, Soundview ain't bout it, we of it
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Round the world they respect my gangsta, gotta love it
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Laws made to be broken, I'm tall - I stand above it
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Stashin keys in a sugar bowl, inside the cupboard
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Rap nigga, billion dollar industry to Bronx, I'm of it
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Step wide, if you steppin wrong - get you stomped or smothered
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- got undercovers through the jet, sun covered
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- got beat walkers runnin out out the jets like faggots
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- got niggas sellin gats
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- got gangstas sellin hoes and hash for twenty-foura grand
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know your math
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- got newborn G's break a scheme and plot
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- got forever thugs - they 40 and still on the block
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- got niggas in they jetsuits - gun don't pop?
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I think not, you gotta blast to get what little we got
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Got coke crack and crack to smack spots
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No main roads, just boondocks and back blocks in...
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{chorus 2}
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[Verse 4]
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Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yeah, yo
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Ya niggas feel froggy? then leap, yeah, you hard wit the heat
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But I'm hard to defeat, the Lord-to-the-Riq
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Bow down, say a payer, knees to the concrete
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Take you off on your feet, have you barf on the street
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Don't even bother to speak
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Cuz Bronx here, game's over
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Lows the lazarus? to get you high, beat ya sober
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Tech flame spit wit more range than a Rover
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4.8 gats knockin 'jay-hovas'
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Ya
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-----------------
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This Cold World
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Lord Tariq |