Lil $tunt - Heart Cold Lyrics

I'ma do my best, momma, stay away from that dope
Leave these bitches hanging but I ain't out of rope
Wanna swim in Christian but I am not the pope
Watch the vibe change as I walk up in the room, bitch
Dirty streets, all my hooligans keep a broom, bitch
All my brothers fast forward like we was in Click, bitch
You get caught up at the red light
Bitch, you better get your head right
All these letters from attorneys but it ain't no help
See me up in public, you gon' call for help
Got my mind on my murder, murder on my mind
I'ma leave your mama crying
Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherf*cking time
If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man
F*ck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride
Wash this club out, ain't no motherf*cking tide
Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy
Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy
Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease
I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason
Hop on the track like you in the same league as me
Taking my cut, shipping straps internationally
Tell me, would you really die for me
Tell me, would you really cry for me
Write because I can do no wrong
And the features I got is the top of they songs
Came a long way from those petty crimes
Now I build a empire off of these f*cking rhymes
I'll f*ck anybody up, they rat about my brother
Your light burn bright, so we finna get you smothered
Days I slept in rain, smoking dope for the pain
Say f*ck it, to the vein, streaming right to my brain
I don't smoke with no lames, I ain't smoking with you, man
Boy a runner, this is not Olympic games
(This is not Olympic games)
(Your ass is not Usain)
(I'ma put you in a Russian Cream)
(And smoke in front of Cane's)
Hop in the back, now you in the same court as me
Shut the f*ck up, you not in the same league as me
I been making money grow off trees
I'm about my honey, I ain't talking bees
I been rolling, say my price too steep
I ain't hear a peep, white girl pressing in the Jeep
All these checks I read, I feel like Aaron Reed
I'm on Tiger Woods shit, I guarantee
(Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherf*cking time)
(If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man)
(F*ck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride)
(Wash this club out, ain't no motherf*cking tide)
(Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy)
(Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy)
(Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease)
(I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason)