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fenix flexin & master kato - cold summer lyrics
[intro]
thank you fizzle
[verse 1: fenix flexin]
what we doin’ n-gga?
prolly gettin’ to it
i was runnin’ to the bag and now i’m runnin’ through it
what your shirt n-gga? sh-t is prolly gucci
it all started with a dm now i’m in the coochie
what you sippin’ on? prolly syrup n-gga
i keep a baby bottle like i’m finna burp a n-gga
you been on your -ss, i been workin’ n-gga
20 bands on your head gon make em’ turn against you
let em’ hate, i got this money [?]
i heard you sign that deal for couple hundred thousand
that some petty money, boy i need a mil
keep it real we done made it here without the deal
i ain’t hatin’ i’m just speakin’ on some real facts
if you know us we was poppin’ way before the rap
if i f-ck your b-tch tonight you ain’t gon get her back
if she hit that road for me she get a couple racks
i be speakin’ what i got, you talkin’ what you had
reminiscin’ -ss n-ggas livin’ in the past
you be in your little feelings, i be in the bag
all these favors i been doin’, i’m these n-ggas dads
teachin’ n-ggas somethin’, like we studyin’ n-gga
i’m tryna live my life in peace, you steady buggin’ a n-gga
one thang for sure, i ain’t with the talkin’
if she ain’t comin’ out no money, she can get to walkin’
if i f-ck her off this perc is she gon’ get to stalkin’?
you n-ggas playin’ with my dogs, like we won’t get to barkin’
we got the mops n-gga, gon’ proceed with caution
you think it’s crazy, not to me
i swear we do this often
crack the seal on a pint, then we pour it
can i trust you with this work, or would you blow it?
swear i know these n-ggas p-ssy, cause they show it
he ain’t no shoota, why he got it?
he’s [?]
[verse 2: master kato]
ay, ay, ay, ay
young wavy n-gga, b-tch i’m out here gettin’ paper
ballin’ in l.a. i keep that purple like a laker
i don’t want that b-tch but if i want it imma take her
b-tch i get them cookies out the oven like a baker
juice-man, perc-man, molly and i serve xans
gettin’ all this money, spend a thousand on a shirt man
louis v [?] wrapped around my head, look like a turban
no i ain’t got [?] this sh-t, my n-ggas splurgin’
foreign car swervin’, glock-c-cked nervous
cold in the summer but these hot shots burnin’
foreign car swervin’, glock-c-cked nervous
cold in the summer but these hot shots burnin’
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