Lyrics Peezy - Cold

Cold Lyrics – Peezy

Singer: Peezy
Title: Cold

What you doin’? [What you doin’?], gettin’ money [Gettin’ money
Pink fifties [Pink fifties], blue hundreds [Blue hundreds
Pull up in valet and tell ’em keep it runnin’ [Keep it runnin’
Ain’t worried ’bout a n#gg# takin’ nothin’ from me [Takin’ nothin’ from me

What you doin’? [What you doin’?], gettin’ to it [Gettin’ to it
Pull up to the club, it’s time to make a movie [Time to make a movie
Water on my neck, it got your b#tch droolin’ [Your b#tch droolin’
Time to show these boys who really gettin’ to it

What you doin’? Gettin’ a lot of money
Count a lot of fifties and a lot of hundreds [Uh
Hit your b#tch before I got her numbеr
I’m a toddler, keep a baby bottle on me

I’m a Ghеtto Boy, I got it tatted on me [Yup
I don’t need no n#gg# rattin’ on me
So I’m by myself ridin’ through the slums
Two b#tches with me, that’s a two-on-one [Two of ’em

Young rich n#gg#, that’s what the bank say [Uh
Been gettin’ money since the eighth grade [Woo
Can’t name a b#tch that I ain’t slayed
Sendin’ n#gg#s money on JPay, yeah [Yeah

Free my dogs out the county [Free ’em
And I got some n#gg#s doin’ fed time [Yup
Play with me, I’m sendin’ out a bounty [Huh?
Drop you in a week, that’s a dead line [Fah

Each state, drinkin’ red wine
Sittin’ at the bar up at Ruth Chris [Yeah
Drunk as hell, screamin’, “f#ck everybody”
Order stuffed chicken for my new b#tch [Yeah

You was talkin’ crazy on Instagram
Seen you in the street, you ain’t do sh#t [Nope
Clip on me longer than a pool stick
You p#ss# boys know who to fool with, n#gg#, fah

Goin’ for the win, break bread with my kin, b#tch, I got rich of Bobby
Gucci my bed
I got dog food, I got girl, sometimes got
Ride with that chopper, no Harley

I’m a big hat like Arby’s
Been runnin’ up bands, been havin’ that swag, you n#gg#s so new to this
Put somethin’ on your head, turn everything red, lil’ n#gg#, we do this sh#t
Get smoked like a hookah, was no fluke, my young n#gg# blew that stick

We bluesin’ sh#t, better move, b#tch, we shootin’ it ludicrous
I’m in a Lam’, don’t need no advance
With your BM got her changin’ her plans
I got a bird, ’bout to serve to my mans

Free Choppa Diesel, he still in the feds
Rat got hit, he ain’t get to the stands
Look at my wrist, how the diamonds, they dance
Huh?

What you doin’? [What you doin’?], gettin’ to it [Gettin’ to it
Pull up to the club, it’s time to make a movie [Time to make a movie
Water on my neck, it got your b#tch droolin’ [Ayy, it’s Philthy, n#gg# your b#tch droolin’
Time to show these boys who really gettin’ to it [Uh-huh]

Look, you ever counted so much money until it made your hand hurt?
Amiri denim hold a whole hundred, no, this ain’t no man-purse
Three hundred cash all blue, I don’t like ’em old, like ’em all new
Tell a bad b#tch fall through, she gon’ suck dick ’til her jaws loose

Masi’ truck and a G-Wagen, Lam’ truck and a Bentayga
Just ordered that Rolls truck, take six months for them just to make it
Remember sellin’ white, tree, and dog, I was trappin’ winter, summer, fall
Just made a half a million sellin’ dogs, came a long way from sellin’ fentanyl

Movin’ weight, no bench press, broke b#tch, no interest
Bustin’ down a whole thirty-six, probably won’t pass my piss test
Rose gold on my left wrist, rest in peace to my n#gg# Soda
Only red, we don’t sip Tris, send a n#gg# to the store for a soda, it’s Philthy

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Lyrics Peezy – Cold

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You can purchase their music thru 
  
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases