Ab-Liva - Cot' Damn lyrics

[Produced by The Neptunes] [Hook - Pharrell] Cot' damn! It's a new day! Cot' damn! But the n***a wanted money! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Cot' damn! [Verse 1 - Malice] Uh, they just can't understand or fathom my demeanor Unapproachable appearance to how I pack the ninas Out of two, Clipse they say Malice the meanest Got love for guns and caine, let nothin' come between us You mistook me for a rapper, huh Well that makes me an actor, cause I would rather clap a gun And buck on them n***as who hate Who wanna be in my shoes, live my life, but can't carry my weight I understand that the envy is part of the game But make no mistake, you and I, we are not the same Naw, b**h, I'm liable to splatter ya sh** Light up ya world, 'til you start to stagger and sh** Watch how them hollows straight rattle ya sh** And I leave it to y'all, to freestyle and battle and sh** That's not me, I'm more at home wit the chrome Or at play wit the yay, moving 12 for a zone, I'm gone [Hook - Pharrell] [Verse 2 - Ab-Liva] God damn, when that white hits the pan and Comes back hard, I can account for every gram and The streets molded the man I am The pimp, the hustler, the crook, the k**er, go-rilla Traits of a blow dealer, cost my fame I hustle, I'm rich, blow scrilla I'm the torch that, carry the game The flame I throw, crack change came from blow Push the O's, six lay close Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows Thug the streets, my love is deep, my pain shows My hearts on a sleeve-a n***a that they gave they soul and hearts to mistreat you n***a told, they breaking my heart on the streets so Watch the phonies, watch ya homies We pop-pop, DROP you homey [Hook - Pharrell] [Verse 3 - Pusha T] They call me Pusha for one reason Cause I keep that sniff all seasons Whether the price is up or down I keep a mound to pitch from, you don't have to shop around When it come to that money, I get stealth Three guns is fortune, and I don't mind sharing my wealth Dog, I know about life I been around the world thrice times, I mean what I say From that Panama sun, to France's Champs-Élysées Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away To sell base is now somewhat therapeutic Hear what I say, please don't confuse it My verses heal, like Curt Mayfield's music (I'm your pusha!), damn right I treat ya nose to hook ya And only pull back to cook ya, partner [Hook - Pharrell] [Verse 4 - Roscoe P. Coldchain] I be damned if I die of starvation, things is f**ed up as is So I bangs my cabbage; do you not know the most effective Way of gettin' money, pull yo gun - rapidly And watch you see the situation be corrected Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish They say whatcha do comes back on you two times I shoulda been died, but I'm still walking around wit two nines Who wants to be a millionaire, me, and you ain't got no more life lines You a snitch n***a fighting crime, go ahead and tell the police Cause every move you make, I'mma throw a slug And hope you choke blood, n***a, on every breath you take Not to be broke, cause Coldchain fate witness Naturally spitting from me, human gat, field to the limit Head to diminish, loud n***as talking gibberish Grind beef, I deliver it, with complimentary service, for certain Live in the living room, searching to hurting you [Hook - Pharrell] {*Skit at end of the track begins*}