Letra de Kold Shoulder - Lil Crix

(Feat. BLP KOSHER)

(Hmm, ATM)

Mm-mm

(Muddi Gold)

Ayy

Out here, out the way (Chubby goin' crazy, fool)

Yeah, go

Mm, mm-mm

Yeah, yeah, yeah

What I say, nigga?

Itchin' for response, so I'ma give his ass the cold shoulder

Kidnap his brother, send him up just like a roller coaster

PB&J, a purple Drac' with a brown holster

Keep it special K like BLP, but I am not Kosher

I shot him from afar, but walked him down, so I just got closer

That nigga ain't even a trapper, he's a faker, he's a damn poser

Nigga, I'm on track and I'm the train, nigga, move over

Maybach truck with a chauffeur, this ain't no Range Rover

Bitch, I'm slidin' on your BM, I'm 'bout to scoop her

Them niggas never had no cars, they takin' Ubers

I like a ho that cook and clean, I talk to cougars

Shot a nigga with a Drac', ain't with the Ruger, uh

New compressor on the switch, so it won't make a sound

Them niggas smokin' Blacks, bitch, I'm out here rollin' loud

How dare a nigga play

Pooh Sheisty, I'ma shoot the crowd (Pooh Sheisty)

I brought an extra stick in case I need an extra round (Round)

Itchin' for response, so I'ma give his ass the cold shoulder

Kidnap his brother, send him up just like a roller coaster

PB&J, a purple Drac' with a brown holster

Keep it special K like BLP, but I am not Kosher

Water, uh, uh (Um)

When Jew Sheisty died, they thought it was over

But that shit ain't over

How them fuckboys green? Grab a four-leaf clover

Draco came from Colorado, don't be bold, jit, I'm bolder

He was loafin' like it's all Gucci, knocked him out his loafers

Jit slid, his ass sore, get that boy a foam roller

Sheisty used to get them clips too, that boy a storm roller

Knocked shit out the park like Babe Ruth, you think them bars sweet

Gas prices never really mattered, we pullin' up on feet

Dude pressed, grab a Smash Burger if it's really beef

The opps gon' touch the mantle, Earth's crust to all them boys beneath

I got two rounds, Jackie Tohn, Lowanda

See you, then I ran off, Boonk Gang, John Gabbana

What's in my Hawaiian shirt? I tuck the Tommy, no Bahama

Only way to go is two L's, fuckin' with that llama

Get, get to Florida, hop up off the plane, it feel like a sauna

Wody 'bout to blow the roof off, that boy a fuckin' bomber

Smith & Wesson, shit, I'm a knight in shinin' armor

Hangin' out inside your bushes, yeah, them boys some real gardeners

Itchin' for response, so I'ma give his ass the cold shoulder

Kidnap his brother, send him up just like a roller coaster

PB&J, a purple Drac' with a brown holster

Keep it special K like BLP, but I am not Kosher

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