| Leave me in the cold |
| When you came to me, I could never tell you no |
|
| You fuckers no longer have the right to tell me nothin' |
| You keep stuntin', chrome dicks go the belly button |
| My faher told me keep it real 'cause I ain't here for stuntin' |
| I pull this trigger, it might hit you in your ear or somethin' |
| Quick to tell a nigga fuck you, you ain't likin' me |
| That's why you be walkin', ain't no talkin' on the side of me |
| No, it ain't no walk in the park what you call easy |
| Been fell off my pivot, got up and I started eatin' |
| Low and hoarse turnin' the corner, my roof open |
| Purple so potent, you smell it like you smokin' |
| Seen, but you seen no frown, lean like I'm Nino Brown |
| Fiends keep on comin' 'round, keys come from out of town |
| Ski see the cheese and be cheesin', leave 'em |
| Emotion put my pockets on the freeze, tease 'em |
| Bank account Visa, jumpin' out a Beamer |
| Lookin' for a reason, but they know I don't need one |
| I'm the type of nigga be movin' go get my Gucci luggage |
| The groupies love it, say my belt don't match my Gucci, fuck it |
| My floozie grubbin' after the meal sits |
| Tellin' Travis 'bout her lips with the vacuum-sealed tips |
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| My name Kevin Gates and I'm like |
| I'm the man down here and I'm in demand down here |
| I'm like one of the hottest niggas out here right now |
| Like, you know, truth be told |
| But I kept a humble approach in the game |
| And I never, I never let my, my character or whatever exceed my, |
| my rapping character |
|
| Flex fuel injection, pressin' hard on the pedal |
| Swoop through in the shh, it's whatever, my heart in the ghetto |
| Baggy jeans so the magazine ravel seams |
| Infrared see-through cartridge, my travel beam |
| New-school vert, convertin' the hard tops like |
| Ooh, the truth hurt, too perfect to fall off like |
| If I'm ever brought to the height of my disposition |
| My position will change and won't remain local |
| Now I'm like postal, see me on a poster |
| Hit you with the Hulk and you won't make it where you're 'posed to |
| Rather die buried with figures shinin' my life away |
| Simple motherfucker, I concentrate if it's night or day |
| Give me all your green, bitch, I mean 'cause I said so |
| Two up in a twenty, make me lean like my leg broke |
| Don't know how to let go, heavy-object holder |
| If you test me, I'ma show you, take the Desy out and stroke 'em |
|
| Leave me in the cold |
| When you came to me, I could never tell you no |
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