Cold Day in Hell-Boondox
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TXT Cold Day in Hell-Boondox 文本歌词
I might burn like a sinner if they take my life, but it's a cold day in hell before they take my pride.
I sell my soul to the devil for a .45, a black cowboy hat, & a switchblade knife.
I sold my soul to the devil for this mic in my hand, but
I ain't ever gonna sell out.
A million dollars for my name to expand.
Take ya fans & ya brands, & you can go an get the hell out.
We really living in a f**ked up time.
So many f**ked up minds inspire f**ked up crimes.& they be quick to sell you out at the drop of a dime.
Too many coward motha f**kas livin life with no spine.
My belly ache from these fake little snakes who come & go as they please just to get what they need.
They use are name just to get a little fame.
Then it's out like a flame.
I wanna make these f**kas bleed.
Like some hooker on the street.
Sellin p**sy just to eat.
Take the money & run.
I wanna take out my heat.
Pull up on em while they sleeping.
You think that
I don't see.
Ya better take it on down the road.
One thing
I ain't is a self righteous saint.
Too many sins been committed to ever get me acquitted.
But it's a fact won't find a knife if ya back cause
I put it all on this track, & to this sh*t
I'm committed.&
I won't ever leave ya hangin.
Always keep that thang swangin like the f**kin d**e man
I'm always stay slangin.
Drivebys on these fake perpetrators stay bangin.
