Will Is Chillin' - Cold-Hearted (feat. Will is Chillin') lyrics

[Verse 1: Bruce Bayne] I'm cold-hearted so honest Call my bluff there's snow on it Hitting stains that tide to go on it You don't feel the pain your life a soap opera I goat tee with some gold teeth or a dog breed with a gold harness I go hard as go Han Who do I put the joke on Or the choke on like my go kart is broke down Throw parties your part of town I'm finding it funny like funny bones artifacts you thought was found The worst posture the nerve to shoot a bird watcher Throw you to the lions or the locker of Brian Urlacher Irv gotti, I follow Jah's rules like Rastafari Burnt bodies in a plane crash I'm living in a lost Safari My shot Jabari, Chopping heads off I barbered a Barbie It's a part of the bargain pardon my barge in, Hardly the third party Harvest my heart arteries and all kinds of archives I'm living with the carbine just to get threw the hard times Grand larcenist and arsonist Antarctic trips Got me so frigid so froze like computers that won't load My Martian trip is parking in a parallel dimension No exit exist tell me where the hell's the entrance [Hook: Bruce Bayne] I'm cold hearted cold blooded I don't take no from no body Cold hard cash no money My life a movie with a low budget I'm cold hearted no loving My role models roll something We look like we know something Cold hearted soul crushing [Verse 2: Will is Chillin'] Cold hearted no I'm lying I'm the lover type Under lights orange glow is how I enjoy my summer nights From the side the Cubs throw the ball around I'm often found walking down Kimble and Milwaukee bumping something nice In my headphones text a girl ask if her moms around her In the end zone f** it I'm writing a song about her Numb to my feelings which must be the reason I'm leaving in such hurry Scurry off my heart is beating in a freezer dust of flurrys From an organ kept in storage hope I find someone important Till then I sport an empty chest Flowing like a river but my bank statement left a hefty stress Deep in the pit of my stomach I penned a couple of pennies to go and spit a summit Of poets with nothing to the moniker my minds a blur Still no clue what might occur in my future but I'm used to it [Hook]