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[Common]Cold-blooded, cold-blooded, hard-coreRough and rugged, rugged and rawFor you and your-your, for you and yourYou got the c to the, huh, cold-bloodedAin't it,huh, c'mon, hard-coreWe take it higherYo, yoMy little daughter, started, nursery schoolBrother com, gotta make our move throughThe stylist and violence with vibranceThe sign of times with rhyme shit is timelessThe mind is a terrible thing to spillRap life's like a dream that seems for realA nigga wake up, superstar, with no acresAfter, traveling the world to see paper's just paperStreets take ya, back and forth like a shakerI'm a slave to the rhythm's breaking offI get the job done, but some days I wanna take offD be like, we ain't got no time for that!Questlove said, we ain?t got no time for that!My old bird like, we ain?t got no time for that!So I rhyme when my back hurtsPlay the numbers from my grandmother like kraftwerkI rock the patchwork fast I'm in to win but then begin to sinSongtexteWe're in to win with hen's and heineken'sBeast for each and greet the meek with speechTo seek and peak cause pete, shit gets deepI freak, styles that come outAt night, when most cats pull the gun outGo on and on and, to the break of when theSound run out, run out, r-run outC uhh, yeahCold-blooded (c'mon) cold-blooded, hard-core(hit em with the) rough and rugged (c'mon) rugged and raw(hey) for you and yours, for you and yoursYou got the c, uhh, cold-blooded (yeah)Cold-blooded (c'mon) hard-core(ain?t it funky) rough and rugged, rugged and rawFor you and yours, for you and yours(yo, yo I-I think I wanna taste these hornsI want you to taste these horns, c'mon now)C, the cold-blooded (uh) cold-blooded (yeah) hard-core(ain't it) rough and rugged (uh) rugged and raw(yeah baby that?s what I'm talking aboutC'mon, give em, give us a little more)For you and yours, for you and yoursC to the, cold-blooded (nasty) cold-blooded, hard-core(c'mon) rough and rugged, rugged and raw(yo, alright let let me get a little taste of this here)For you and yours, for you and yours[Common]The simps, please These studs mention me,As a, intense MC, sent to be the reignOn the industry I cameWith penitentiary talk, coke and a Hennesey walkMy imagery talks, metaphors and similes stalkTime for war, my artillery caulks the hardest niggaI'm killing 'em softDealing with golf, getting blowed on the courseI be dissing magazines, but then buy the sourceCan't explain why the force, is with meKnown to bring a rapper down, like bobby did WhitneySophisticated sissies strut like this is beat street in backpacksBragging how they don't eat meat and abstractI backsmack em with they skateboard, flee the crime sceneWith a rhyme scheme to escape fraudsMake broads become queens, run things like a rasta sprinterThe way you want the game I rub off like hennerI remain like a tattoo with natural rapsCopy like a fax that's y'all actual factsBattle raps is where it began, I'ma end it wherever I landI done thought of, a master plan, it goesC to the, cold-blooded (yeah, c'mon)Cold-blooded, (ya know) hard-core(ain't it) rough and rugged, (c'mon) rugged and rawFor you and yours, for you and yoursYou got the c to the, cold-bloodedCold-blooded, hard-coreRough and rugged, rugged and rawFor you and yours, for you and yoursYou got the c to the, cold-blooded (yeah, hey)Cold-blooded (nasty, yo yo) hard-coreRough and rugged, rugged and raw(ain't it, ain't it) for you and yours, for you and yoursYou got the c to the, cold-bloodedCold-blooded, (c'mon) hard-coreRough and rugged, rugged and rawFor you and yours, for you and yours Aus Songtexte Mania