Cold Dayz - Snowgoons

«These cold days got me in a physical rage» — Ruthless Bastards 'Bastards'

«It's like that from the Stat where I live at»

«Walking through the dark path of this invisible maze» — Ruthless Bastards

'Murder He Wrote'

«My life ain’t rosy but I roll with it» — Jay-Z 'Dead Presidents II'

I didn’t choose this life, this life chose me

I don’t owe the game, the game owes me

I might know you but you don’t know me

My OG see things you don’t see

Sex, money, and murder on the TV

It’s easy to put out a bullshit CD

And poison the people’s minds for GP

Destroying what we designed in 3D

Everybody’s yelling recession but I’m selling some weapons

That’ll help you get by without stressing

Answer one question, you ain’t gotta lie

Are you really willing to die to get by?

Going through mad shit trying to keep my head high

Coming to you live from the middle of Bed-Stuy

Where it’s do-or-die homicides and suicides

Sex, drugs, money, lies, baby you could decide

I had to do it every day son I couldn’t hide

I couldn’t cry but I slipped up a couple times

Puffing a dime so high we hustled and grind

Fuck a crew it was just me, my cousin, and I

We’d catch a couple of vics, swell a couple of eyes

Take a nigga lunch money then order a pie

Meet up in the morning at the corner at nine

Then party and bullshit till a quarter to five

Yo in this struggle you gotta have Street Smartz

That’s why we pack Metal Thangz for those with sheep hearts

Deep darks aren’t fragmented on these glaciers of ice

Like an abused pitbull I was bred to be nothing nice

Alcohol vice, grim slip into a trance

Shoulder chip getting worse, disperse bullets over a glance

A true romance, no Christian Slater

Denounce myself as a Christian, I’m a vicious hater

No fictitious saviour is a neighbour of mine

Blue collar scholar with a martyr I dine

Cheap wine, whiskey and beer

Dilemma of a scumbag, I’m the apprentice of fear

Warfare engineer, a oppression

Fuck a knife, I got an axe to cut the tension

I’m the one they mention as a henchman of rap

So you rhyming is like giving Kool Herc a slap

In the jungle where alley cats and rowdy rats

We polly at playgrounds where they stash the dead bodies at

It’s a cold world, better get your pea coat

It’s hard to see hope when shorty on they knees like they feet broke

Giving deep throat so she can release dope

Into her veins, part of the game in the streets though

All that we know, shoot to kill first

So fuck an ill verse, I still see my nigga Millhurst

I see his mom grabbing at the casket

Later that night we riding deep blasting at them bastards

It’s a cycle of madness

I still think they coming for me

So fuck the cops, the judge, and the jury cause they ain’t did nothing for me

When I was young I’d roll a blunt and crush a forty

Just to escape the scene of the crime cause it was gory

You rappers corny, there’s nothing to glorify

I’m horrified by how many brothers left before their time

And they all speak through me

That’s why I’ll always speak truthfully

Yeah you know who it be

Let the music breathe