K-Def - This Cold World lyrics

(chinese drums and bells combine in a beat) [older voice starts singing] [Chorus 1] In this cold world, no matter where I go the crowds are all the same (uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know) To them I'm just a pebble in the sand, a face...without a name [Verse 1] Ya n***as would never understand the calibur I'm reppin' Hoes that I'm s**in', cribs that I've slept in Cars and stashboxes cash and Glocks is kept in Talk how I'm steppin', representin' the weapon Sex, money and murder - have it, got it and do it Set it, plot it to get it Southeast BX, the Soundview area Black Lex GS tan leather interior Moves in Atlanta, meetins' in Alabama Cold blue steel under the green bandana I copped raw yay on Broadway from bananas Hoop fully eqipped wit chips and scanners Not a motherf**in' sh**? uh I see through yuor propaganda Yo partner told me yo' paper proper in Savanna If life's a b**h..I gotta have her Whateva! Ain't sh** gonna work unles we all work together [Chorus 2] In this cold world, I struggle to survive and sometimes I would fall (uh huh huh huh uh huh let em know) You think someone would lend a helpin hand, they choose to see me crawl [Verse 2] Yo, Yo I had dreams I pitched quarters wit rich portage Drove miles Kin chow's, all in the Feds files Back before n***as rapped 'bout chains and rings I was teachin New York n***as how to slang them things sh** check the credits, no mutes and no edits These walkinletters after the cheddar Blue, red and yellow, it can't get no better f** banners, bandanas all colors - star-spangled From militants and gangstas, I covered all angles Do a hit and twist a story until it's all tangled Speak when spoken spoken cuz I undertandthe langua {chorus 1} [Verse 3] Yo, yeah, yo, yo Lord Tariq, Soundview ain't bout it, we of it Round the world they respect my gangsta, gotta love it Laws made to be broken, I'm tall - I stand above it Stashin keys in a sugar bowl, inside the cupboard Rap n***a, billion dollar industry to Bronx, I'm of it Step wide, if you steppin wrong - get you stomped or smothered - got undercovers through the jet, sun covered - got beat walkers runnin out out the jets like f*ggots - got n***as sellin gats - got gangstas sellin hoes and hash for twenty-foura grand Know your math - got newborn G's break a scheme and plot - got forever thugs - they 40 and still on the block - got n***as in they jetsuits - gun don't pop? I think not, you gotta blast to get what little we got Got coke crack and crack to smack spots No main roads, just boondocks and back blocks in... {chorus 2} [Verse 4] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yeah, yo Ya n***as feel froggy? then leap, yeah, you hard wit the heat But I'm hard to defeat, the Lord-to-the-Riq Bow down, say a payer, knees to the concrete Take you off on your feet, have you barf on the street Don't even bother to speak Cuz Bronx here, game's over Lows the lazarus? to get you high, beat ya sober Tech flame spit wit more range than a Rover 4.8 gats knockin 'jay-hovas' Ya