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Brooklyn Zu (Wu-Fam) - Cold World | Текст песни

People are dying, trying to get in the mind of these Brooklyn Zu Killas 
But they don't know, it's a cold, cold, world 
[Shorty Shitstain] 
Travel through the mind of a killa, most killas 
Is like known gorillas 
Dead man can't tattle tell, I'm hungry as hell 
And the streets ain't feeding me well 
Killas coming off, all shapes and forms 
You even got they young ones packing big Guard U Nows 
And wasting no round, kick, fast'll blow you down 
They love the sound, you see how that sounds? 
You got pops outside getting his grind on 
Got moms in the kitchen, and she cooking with her nine on 
And they teach the babies to be gangstas 
Got little young one, just waiting to bank ya 
Niggas putting poison in drinks 
So watch what you sip from, cuz it could be your last drink 
Blame it on insanity 
What posess a grown ass man to kill his whole family 
Look at little Bernard Guess 
He was on his way home, with the chrome 
I guess it just be all a reaction, the nigga started blasting 
Leaving fragments, on the third rail 
I guess he just was going through some things 
Cuz when the stick-up, he had to let his nine sing 
[Chorus 2X: Buddha Monk] 
It's a cold world, babe, it's a cold world, babe 
It's a cold world, babe, oh, it's a cold world, babe 
[12 O'Clock] 
Let's make a motion picture, put Zu in a haunted house 
Case of Olde Golde and cats wit Guinness Stoute 
Forty bust these, nigga mouth laced up 
Put the stakes up, lock the door, board the windows up 
Handcuff, reach up, silverplate mixed with weed and dust 
It's digital, shit get critical 
Trying to escape, but no way, we in the castle 
Surrounded by a lake, alligators and rottweilers, no food to swallow 
Naked bitch in the basement, it makes no sense 
Paranoid, hearing wood from the floor making noise 
Me and my boys, the bottom like basement 
Don't like to be caged in, we kill a man 
[Chorus 2X] 
[5 Foot Hyper Sniper] 
As I look into the mind of a killa, I see a DC sniper 
Teaching the youth, how to snipe ya 
I Scott Peterson your wife, for the right price 
Give out shots like Colin Ferguson 
For no purpose, I'm like Timothy McVay 
I'm blowing up buildings, I'm killing men, women and children 
I know a Sicilian, his name is Al Capone 
He get you hit in your home, by Frank Nitty 
He get the job done, for a buck fifty 
K, Martin Luther King Jr. will be here today 
If it wasn't for James Earl Ray 
Even Marvin Gaye pops is a killer


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