Song: Cold World
Artist:  GZA
Year: 1995
Viewed: 36 - Published at: 3 years ago

[Intro: sample]
“I had a bad dream”
“Don’t be afraid, bad dreams are only dreams”
“What a time you chose to be born in”

[Chorus: Life]
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world

[Verse 1: GZA]
It was the night before New Year’s
And all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a TEC
Outsiders were stuck, by enemies who put fear
And blasted on the spot before the pigs were there
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 pro-calisthenic, any style you set it
Beat niggas toothless, physically cut up like gooses
But with iron on the sides, thugs took no excuses
Therefore, your fifty-two handblocks was useless
Linx was snatched off necks, left 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
Construction worker, who was caught for his bomber
No time to swing the hammer that was hangin' from his farmers
And it’s bugged how some niggas catch slugs
And pockets dug from everythin' 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, niggas layin' on roof tops
For his C.R.E.A.M 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 hitmen who pull out TECs and then
Drop those who crack like tacos from Mexican
Rapid, like recipients cashin' checks again
Back to the motherfuckin' spot on Lexington
[Chorus: Life]
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
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 2: Inspectah Deck]
Yo, no time to freeze, undercovers ease up in Grand Prixs
And seize packages and pocket the currency
Cliques 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
Three-Fifteen-Sevens and Forty-Fours
Bought inside corner stores, provide sparks for wars
Hospital floors surrounded by the law
Homicide questionin' while the Jakes guard the door
My hood stay tense, loyalty puts strength in my team
‘Cause niggas’ main concern is C.R.E.A.M
Some niggas in the jet-black Galant
Shot up the Chinese restaurant for this kid named Lamont
I thought he was dead, but instead, he missed the 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 an actor
But the author of a modern-day opera
Where the main character is presidential papers, the dominant factor
[Bridge: Life]
You know, you had me
With your sensuous charm
But you looked so alarmed
As I walked on by

[Chorus x2: Life]
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
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

( GZA )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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