ASAP Ferg ft. ASAP Nast ft. Dash - So Cold (Rap) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• ASAP Ferg ft. ASAP Nast ft. Dash
• So Cold (Rap)

[Intro: A$AP Nast]
A$AP Mob in this mothafucka
Tried to told ya
Yo Yams what's up

[Verse 1: A$AP Nast]
Skinny black nigga
All black get-up
Calvin Klein trench make me look trap killa
I am rap skrilla, Michael Jack back in my rap, check the trap trilla
Nasty back, track killa, call me young Jack Ripper
Rest in peace wack niggas
With this rap, Nast sicker than the sickest of the sickest generation
Ya'll just hatin', cuz we made it, celebration, got me faded
Blazin' up, I feel amazing, but I'm just sayin'
Like what you saying? Y'all be playing
All are prey to a pack of wolves
That never ate, or so they say
They could be fake, whoever know
We sold our souls
We sold our minds, I lost my mind
But that's all lies, because I'm all fine
I got this game, this bitch is mine

[Hook] x4
Bitch I'm cold
Bitch I'm cold
Yeah, bitch I'm cold
Yeah, yeah, bitch I'm cold
Uh

[Bridge] x2
Ride wit a real nigga
Ride wit a real nigga
Ride wit a real nigga
Ride ride wit a real nigga

[Verse 2: Da$H]
Roll a couple grams, black ho with a tan
Bands don't just make her dance
Bet the bitch will fuck my friends
Feeling like I'm Cam nigga, put her on the cam nigga
And she got a man, she only love me for my jams damn
I'm drunk as a fish, inhaling a spliff
Can't you see I'm loaded
And I won't stop till I'm dead or I'm rich
Young niggas control it
Fold niggas like clothing
Take my side, what you opposin
Leave him stiff like he was posin
Never scared of overdosin, yup
Asked for a pill, handed her two
Say you get high, then prove it then boo
Ordered a 'tel, call up your crew
And we set it up just like Jada would do
True, they say the real niggas don't lie
You was never close to I
So I suggest you never try

[Hook]

[Bridge]

[Verse 3: A$AP Ferg]
Trap lord and I'm righteous
Cozy boy and I'm still reclinin
Bad bitch in manolo blahnik
I pump that ass like that colonic
Feel the bass and that beat knockin
Can't see my face, I'm beneath the stockin
Stop you nigga but the heat brolic
Get your head chopped like supersonic
Yamborghini in a Lamborghini
Margiela bitch in that red bikini
French bitch suck seven weewees
Ask Rock if you don't believe me
Mobbing hard with my mob
Trap lord the young god
ASAP we go hard
Brraaap boy in yo car
Lay flat boy, it's yo gun
Feeling like a task force with that chrome
Feeling like I'm Flex boy with that bomb (BOOM)
Tec spray like cologne
Better get that tec boy you're so gone
Hit him in the neck, jaw and his arm
You better not flex boy when I zone
Cause I draw guns like Crayons

[Hook]

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