Correction Lyrics Heart Colder by Philthy Rich

Featuring(s) : Money Man

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Lyrics

in Louis, these Cartiers confusing
The shoes are Versace, I don't [?], my exotics are potent
My bitches, they [?], they Italian, they smokin'
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfuckin' poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feelin' so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
Knocked the head off the bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixin' my soda, my heart just be colder

Like Minnesota
[?][0:29], let it loose like I'm bipolar
All this loud in the house, got a loud odor
Every nigga in the struggle got love for me
All the plugs on the West that got bud for me
Every day, gotta hit up the gun range
Niggas ain't got no heart, they just bitch-made
I just purchased my lil' bitch a Mustang
I been trappin', lil' nigga, since eighth grade
Everything that I'm burning that high grade
Made a hundred K juggin' [?][0:43]
I swear me and lil' mama connected
When she with me, she feel so protected
This a 'Vette right here, that not a Lexus
They show mad love when I go to Texas
Just to re-up, I went me a distance
I'll come and end your existence
You got Virgil, had four of the santan
Finna go get a bag, I'm relentless
Makin' hits, ain't got time for these bitches
We gon' see who can shoot this shit quickest
How you pull out a stick and ain't hit shit?
I just find me a glitch, I'm the slickest
I just poured me a four in some Sunkist

in Louis, these Cartiers confusing
My shoes are Versace, don't [?], my exotics are potent
My bitches, they [?], they Italian, they smokin'
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfuckin' poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feelin' so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
Knocked the head off the bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixin' my soda, my heart just be colder

Heart cold from all this pain, at Club E11EVEN on Biscayne
Ordered fifty-nine rosé bottles, I swear to God that I miss Maine
In the rearview when I switch lanes, Big 59, I done switched names
Pull on side of this Bentley truck, 7.62's gon' exchange
Forty thou' on these VV's, two thou' a tooth, the foreign powder blue
Bad bitch from Chicago tryna pull up on me at the Fontainebleau
Had a fifty on me at TSA, they was all new, they was all blue
I ain't count shit and you ain't keepin' shit, tell your supervisor better fall through
Line him up for a booby trap, bottle service at the Boobietrap
Gucci on me, no Coogi hat, big dawg, no Scooby Snack
My ex fucked my enemy, but I ain't bein' petty, tryna get her back
Just tell him keep my name out his mouth, 'cause that sneak dissin' gon' get him whacked, it's Philthy

in Louis, these Cartiers confusing
The shoes are Versace, I don't [?], my exotics are potent
My bitches, they [?], they Italian, they smokin'
She twenty, she throw it, I sip it, I pour it
I spit this shit like a motherfuckin' poet
Bitch, I'm the realest, but I never wrote this shit
Just like a horse, I just hopped on and rode it
I'm in a Trackhawk and I can't control it
I can't have her play me just like a controller
Do dash in the foreign, a lot on the motor
All these racks in my jeans got me feelin' so bloated
Got a bitch at the crib and she wet like the ocean
Knocked the head off the bitch and I told her come over
Got the Bentley truck now, had to trade in the Rover
I'm mixin' my soda, my heart just be colder

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