Letra de A Cold Sunday - Lil Yachty

(Feat. [])

It's a cold Sunday to complain

I hold it in until it rain

I fought demons after fame

I spent millions on terrain

I treat my bitch just like Diana

Pretty princess, hold the Fanta

2003 Dolce & Gabbana jeans make her ass look fatter

We gon' catch him outside, he don't got no money for the backup

I ran thirty million in the ground, baby, now I'm back up

She a city girl, I'm the real reason that she act up (Mmh)

She talk back, I make her pack up, send her home on Spirit

Something in my spirit made me not believe I'm feared (Mmh)

I know bitches parrot, so I'm watchin' how I'm speakin'

Single but I'm creepin', my main bitch don't need a headache (Ooh)

Half a mill' on Maybachs, tires flat, I never drive 'em (Mmh)

Pretty hoes need stylin', Balenci' shopping got 'em wildin'

Tweakin' out on Collins, in my veins, the molly throbbin' (Geekin')

Rich as hell, still robbin', ain't no love the way I'm rockin'

Bentley color goblin, forest green, the lane I'm hoggin' (Spin)

Wrap the P like swallin', get it through yo' fuckin' noggin (Damn)

Money's first, I'm always dialed in (Uh, krrt)

Money's first, I'm always dialed in, is that a problem? (Go)

I made m's off a TV like I work for Viacom

Doggy didn't stay for long, he left when the sirens rung

Flyest niggas we turn bitches BD's into tire stabbers

I could've put out wild fires, at the house behind barbed wire

Twenty-five but living like I'm fifty with three kids

All these bitches in my biz, five-hundred thousand on my bitch (Uh)

Fuck if you don't like me

I'ma still get fetti more than likely, it's enticing

I'll die for my respect

Shew

Heaven must've sent you (It's Us)

From the clouds above

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