[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Cot damn
It's a new day
Cot damn
But that nigga wanted money
[Post-Chorus: Pharrell Williams & Malice]
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh
Hoo, uh, cot damn (Uh)
[Verse 1: Malice]
They just can't understand or fathom my demeanor
Unapproachable appearance to how I pack the ninas
Out of two Clipse, they say Malice the meanest
Got love for guns and 'caine, let nothin' come between us
You mistook me for a rapper, huh?
Well, that makes me an actor, 'cause I would rather clap a gun
And buck on them niggas who hate
Who wanna be in my shoes, live my life, but can't carry my weight
I understand that the envy is part of the game
But make no mistake, you and I, we are not the same
Nah, bitch, I'm liable to splatter ya shit
Light up ya world 'til you start to stagger and shit
Watch how them hollows straight rattle ya shit
And I'll leave it to y'all to freestyle and battle and shit
That's not me, I'm more at home with the chrome
Or at play wit the yay, moving twelve for a zone, I'm gone
[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Cot damn
It's a new day
Cot damn
But that nigga wanted money
[Verse 2: Ab-Liva]
God damn, when that white hits the pan it
Comes back hard, I can account for every gram and
The streets molded the man I am
The pimp, the hustler, the crook, the killer, gorilla
Traits of a blow dealer course my veins
I hustle, I'm rich, blow scrilla, I'm the torch that carry the game
The flame I throw, crack change came from blow
Push the Os, six lay close
Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows
Thug the streets, my love is deep, my pain shows
My heart's on the sleeve, uh
Nigga that they gave they soul and hearts to deceit you
Nigga told, they breaking my heart on the streets, so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies, we pop-pop, drop you, homie
[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Cot damn
It's a new day
Cot damn
But that nigga wanted money
[Verse 3: Pusha T & Pharrell]
They call me Pusha for one reason
'Cause I keep that sniff all seasons
Whether the price is up or down
I keep a mound to pitch from, you don't have to shop around
When it come to that money, I get stealth
Three guns is fortune, and I don't mind sharing my wealth, dawg
I know about life
I been around the world thrice times, I mean what I say
From that Panama sun to France's Champs-Élysées
Grind so deep-rooted, I can't turn away
To sell base is now somewhat therapeutic
Hear what I say, please don't confuse it
My verses heal like Curt Mayfield's music (I'm your pusha!)
Damn right, I treat ya nose to hook ya
And only pull back to cook ya, partner
[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Cot damn
It's a new day
Cot damn
But that nigga wanted money
[Verse 4: Roscoe P. Coldchain]
I'll be damned if I die from starvation, things is fucked up as is
So I bangs my cabbage
Do you wanna know the most effective way of gettin' money?
Pull your gun rapidly, and watch, you'll see the situation be corrected
Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish?
They say what you do comes back on you two times
I shoulda been died, but I'm still walking around with two nines
Who wants to be a millionaire? Me, and you ain't got no more life lines
You a snitch nigga fighting crime, go ahead and tell the police
'Cause every move you make, I'ma throw a slug
And hope you choke blood, nigga, on every breath you take
Not to be broke, 'cause Coldchain's fate witness
Naturally spitting from the human gat filled to the limit
Here to diminish loud niggas talking gibberish
You want beef? I deliver it with complimentary service
For certain, live in the living room, searching and hurting you
[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Cot damn
It's a new day
Cot damn
But that nigga wanted money
[Post-Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Hoo, uh, hoo, uh
Hoo, uh, cot damn
[Skit]
Dear Diary
Here I am, once again, writing you 'bout this bitch-ass nigga
You know I was fuckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to been a creep thang
I understood about his bitch, I accepted her
But then he gon' come with this bullshit
You know, after I had time invested in this motherfucker
He gon' tell me, you know, "Things need to change a lil' bit
We need to slow down a little bit"
Slow down for what? Not for that bitch!
I know you not tryna slow down with me for that motherfucking raggedy-ass bitch
Yo' girl this, yo' girl that
Your girl is a motherfucking fake wearing all that fake-ass shit
She buying out of somebody else's motherfucking truck
See, one thing 'bout me, I'm an authentic bitch
I put yo' motherfucking ass on
And you still buy her fake motherfucking shit
Her and that teeny lil'-ass motherfucking car
You gon' throw some cheap-ass twenty dollar rims on that motherfucker
And you think you got some-motherfucking-body?
Bitch, you ain't got no motherfucking-body
I showed you the motherfucking ropes
I showed you how to motherfucking dress
With that little bit of money
That you had at that point in motherfucking time
I drained yo' motherfucking ass
I drained yo' motherfucking ass broke, then you—
Here you gon' riding 'round in a '95 car
Tryna get it souped-up to a 2002, bitch, motherfucker
