A$AP Ferg - So Cold lyrics

[Intro: A$AP Nast] A$AP Mob in this mothaf**a Tried to told ya Yo Yams what's up [Verse 1: A$AP Nast] Skinny black n***a All black get-up Calvin Klein trench make me look trap k**a I am rap skrilla, Michael Jack back in my rap, check the trap trilla Nasty back, track k**a, call me young Jack Ripper Rest in peace wack n***as With this rap, Nast sicker than the sickest of the sickest generation Ya'll just hatin', cuz we made it, celebration, got me faded Blazin' up, I feel amazing, but I'm just sayin' Like what you saying? Y'all be playing All are prey to a pack of wolves That never ate, or so they say They could be fake, whoever know We sold our souls We sold our minds, I lost my mind But that's all lies, because I'm all fine I got this game, this b**h is mine [Hook] x4 b**h I'm cold b**h I'm cold Yeah, b**h I'm cold Yeah, yeah, b**h I'm cold Uh [Bridge] x2 Ride wit a real n***a Ride wit a real n***a Ride wit a real n***a Ride ride wit a real n***a [Verse 2: Da$H] Roll a couple grams, black ho with a tan Bands don't just make her dance Bet the b**h will f** my friends Feeling like I'm Cam n***a, put her on the cam n***a 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 n***as control it Fold n***as 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 n***as 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 b**h in manolo blahnik I pump that a** like that colonic Feel the ba** and that beat knockin Can't see my face, I'm beneath the stockin Stocky n***a but the heat brolic Get your head chopped like supersonic Yamborghini in a Lamborghini Margiela b**h in that red bikini French b**h s** 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]