Testo Cold World

Intro: (first three lines LP only) I had a bad dream Don't be afraid, bad dreams are only dreams What a time you chose to be born in... Babies crying brothers dying and brothers getting not Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down in this cold, cold world... Verse One: The GZA It was the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin projects Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear and blasted on the spot before the pigs were dere You know hoods robbers snipers new in sight fuck blue and white They escape before them flash the fuckin lights Gunshots, shatter first floor window panes Shells hit the ground and blood stained the dice game Whether broke callisthetic, any style you set it Beat niggaz toothless, physically cut up like gooses But with iron on the sides thugs took no excuses Therefore, your fifty-two handblocks was useless Links was snatched off necks, scars on throats Jackets took, after bullet rips through coats Against those who felt the cold from the steel made em fold and squeal, once the metal hit the temple of his grill Destruction worker, who was caught for his bomber No time to swing the hammer that was hangin from his Farmer's And it's bugged how some niggaz catch slugs and pockets dug from everything except check stubs and it does, sound ill like wars in Brownsville Or fatal robberies in Red Hook where feds look For fugitives to shoot cops, niggaz layin on roof tops for his CREAM he stashed in a shoebox But he was hot, and the strip was filled with young killers you don't suspect, so cops creep like caterpillars And born thieves stay hooded with extra bullets those who try to flee they hit the vertebrae, increase the murder rate Similar to hit men who pull out Tecs and then drop those who act like thai flows from Mexican Rabbit, like recipients cashin checks again Back to the motherfuckin spot on Lexington Chorus: Babies crying brothers dying and brothers getting not Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down in this cold, cold world... We be runnin from the cops, bustin off shots Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down in this cold, cold world... Verse Two: Inspectah Deck (Rollie Fingers) Yo No time to freeze, undercovers roll up in Grand Prixs and seize packages and pocket the currency Clicks control strips full clips are sprayed Yellow tape barricades sidewalks where bodies lay Madness strikes at twelve o'clock midnight Stick up kids on the ground broke the staircase light And I stays harassed, scramblin for petty cash Jakes on my ass young bucks is learnin fast 357's and 44's Bought inside corner stores, their fire sparks the wars Hospital floors surrounded by the law Homicide questioning while the Jakes guard the door My hood stay tense, loyalty puts strength in my team Cause niggaz main concern is CREAM Some niggaz in the jet black Gallant Shot up the Chinese resteraunt, for this kid named Lamont I thought he was dead but instead he missed a kid and hit a twelve year old girl in the head and then fled Tactical narcotic, task force, back off fast Cause the crime boss is passin off cash Extortions, for portions of streets, causes beef Havin followers of Indians trying to play Chief You witness the saga, casualties and drama Life is a script, I'm not a actor but the author of a modern day opera, where the main character is presidential paper, the dominant, factor Chorus