So Cold

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Max B

Charles Wingate (born May 21, 1978), better known as Max B, is an American rapper from Harlem, New York City, New York. In 2009, Max B began serving a 75-year prison sentence for charges of conspiracy to armed robbery, kidnapping, aggravated assault, and murder. more »

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Paul Couture, Max Biggavel
This what we sound like, baby (Couture) 'cause yeah

I'm so cold
Baby, why you blood's ever below
No matter how many tries
Nobody really ever say that this was a fluke
She said nigga, you got a mouth like gold
But your heart like snow, you're so cold
See I got a thing for you and I can't let go, I'm goin' home

They recommended semi-automatic weapons
Tradition, f*ck a second amendment as long as they legal
They independent niggas
Hands in the sin box dealers and killas tryna make a play
She ain't get the best of me, schemin' like a refugee
Daddy what's the password, screamin' "open sesame"
Ain't a nigga f*ck it yet, Bigga you the first
I be bangin', she be buckin' back
They ain't give me nothin' yet
They just say the same shit
We just play the games
Speak my name, Don Biggie, came to change
Nigga, we came, saw, and conquered
Eloquent music, God is my mantra
Pop out your closet like boogie monster
Workin' like Fonda, workin' like a sponsor
Leavin' in the Cadillac, pulled up in the Honda
Said her name was Lexis, Mama named Shonda
F*ck for a couple 150 dollar massages, yeah

I'm so cold
Baby, why your blood's ever below?
No matter how many tries
Nobody really ever say that this was a fluke
She said nigga, you got a mouth like gold
But your heart like snow, you're so cold
See I got a thing for you and I can't let go, I'm goin' home

Yeah, I got a lotta flavor
You could tell that it's me from a block or two
Yeah, look, I got a lotta haters
So you know my body bitch, I keep a Glock or two
Ooh, and this rockstar shit get dangerous
So I'ma move how I gotta move
Yeah, I'ma rock star but some gangster niggas wit' me 
To shoot who I tell 'em to
If you feel a way, nigga spin the block
Spin the block and hit his knot box
I, I got everything in Saint Laurent
And Louis Vuitton, Louis flip flops, ah
All my prices gettin' hot
And I'm gettin' hot with a pop star, ah
I got different color whips and all my watches iced out, yeah
This my lifestyle now

I'm so cold
Baby, why your blood's ever below?
No matter how many tries
Nobody really ever say that this was a fluke
She said nigga, you got a mouth like gold
But your heart like snow, you're so cold
See I got a thing for you and I can't let go, I'm goin' home

His body hit the dash, came from the second floor
Nigga lit, I hit a swig ridin' late night
Clear my conscience
Baby steady hittin' up the phone
Player racked with guilt, bring a half of gallon milk
Niggas came around us built
Got a crew of niggas that'll squeeze if I tell 'em to
Couple of 'em families too
Know a nigga send me back, drama cup cleared out
Now that she can hear me rap, mama want a big house
Baby said she want a bag, she ain't ever earned it
Told her to earn the profit, but she ain't ever turned it
Nigga, don't be lookin' so concerned
Drink the Henny, 'cause it burn
Blow the dough we get, never do the opiates
Icy like a Mountain Dew, colder than the Soviet
50 to 100,000 a show we get
Every flow we spit, niggas duplicate
F*ck around, shoot your face
Niggas be movin' records, we movin' weight
I'm so cold

I'm so cold
Baby, why your blood's ever below?
No matter how many tries
Nobody really ever say that this was a fluke
She said nigga, you got a mouth like gold
But your heart like snow, you're so cold
See I got a thing for you and I can't let go, I'm goin' home

Uh, God, I love that shit, baby
Cold-blooded baby, the cold nigga Biggavel
A Boogie, what's happenin' baby?
Paul Couture
Let that motherfucker ride

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