Cold World Songtext / Lyric

Intro: (first three lines LP only)


I had a bad dream

Don't be afraid, bad dreams are only dreams

What a time you chose to be born in...


Babies crying brothers dying and brothers getting not

Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down

in this cold, cold world...


Verse One: The GZA


It was the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin projects

Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec

Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear

and blasted on the spot before the pigs were dere

You know hoods robbers snipers new in sight fuck blue and white

They escape before them flash the fuckin lights

Gunshots, shatter first floor window panes

Shells hit the ground and blood stained the dice game

Whether broke callisthetic, any style you set it

Beat niggaz toothless, physically cut up like gooses

But with iron on the sides thugs took no excuses

Therefore, your fifty-two handblocks was useless

Links was snatched off necks, scars on throats

Jackets took, after bullet rips through coats

Against those who felt the cold from the steel made em fold

and squeal, once the metal hit the temple of his grill

Destruction worker, who was caught for his bomber

No time to swing the hammer that was hangin from his Farmer's

And it's bugged how some niggaz catch slugs

and pockets dug from everything except check stubs

and it does, sound ill like wars in Brownsville

Or fatal robberies in Red Hook where feds look

For fugitives to shoot cops, niggaz layin on roof tops

for his CREAM he stashed in a shoebox

But he was hot, and the strip was filled with young killers

you don't suspect, so cops creep like caterpillars

And born thieves stay hooded with extra bullets

those who try to flee they hit the vertebrae, increase the murder rate

Similar to hit men who pull out Tecs and then

drop those who act like thai flows from Mexican

Rabbit, like recipients cashin checks again

Back to the motherfuckin spot on Lexington


Chorus:


Babies crying brothers dying and brothers getting not

Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down

in this cold, cold world...


We be runnin from the cops, bustin off shots

Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down

in this cold, cold world...


Verse Two: Inspectah Deck (Rollie Fingers)


Yo

No time to freeze, undercovers roll up in Grand Prixs

and seize packages and pocket the currency

Clicks control strips full clips are sprayed

Yellow tape barricades sidewalks where bodies lay

Madness strikes at twelve o'clock midnight

Stick up kids on the ground broke the staircase light

And I stays harassed, scramblin for petty cash

Jakes on my ass young bucks is learnin fast

357's and 44's

Bought inside corner stores, their fire sparks the wars

Hospital floors surrounded by the law

Homicide questioning while the Jakes guard the door

My hood stay tense, loyalty puts strength in my team

Cause niggaz main concern is CREAM

Some niggaz in the jet black Gallant

Shot up the Chinese resteraunt, for this kid named Lamont

I thought he was dead but instead he missed a kid

and hit a twelve year old girl in the head and then fled

Tactical narcotic, task force, back off fast

Cause the crime boss is passin off cash

Extortions, for portions of streets, causes beef

Havin followers of Indians trying to play Chief

You witness the saga, casualties and drama

Life is a script, I'm not a actor but the author

of a modern day opera, where the main character

is presidential paper, the dominant, factor


Chorus