Cot Damn

[Produced by The Neptunes]

[Hook: Pharrell]
Cot' damn! It's a new day!
Cot' damn! But the n*gga wanted money!
Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu!
Cot' damn!

[Verse 1: Malice]
Uh, 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 n*ggas 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
Naw, b*tch, I'm liable to splatter ya sh*t
Light up ya world, 'til you start to stagger and sh*t
Watch how them hollows straight rattle ya sh*t
And I leave it to y'all, to freestyle and battle and sh*t
That's not me, I'm more at home wit the chrome
Or at play wit the yay, moving 12 for a zone, I'm gone

[Hook: Pharrell]
Cot' damn! It's a new day!
Cot' damn! But the n*gga wanted money!
Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu!
Cot' damn!

[Verse 2: Ab-Liva]
God damn, when that white hits the pan and
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, go-rilla
Traits of a blow dealer, cost my fame
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 O's, six lay close
Hug the streets, I hug the beat, change flows
Thug the streets, my love is deep, my pain shows
My hearts on a sleeve-a
n*gga that they gave they soul and hearts to mistreat you
n*gga told, they breaking my heart on the streets so
Watch the phonies, watch ya homies
We pop-pop, DROP you homey

[Hook: Pharrell]
Cot' damn! It's a new day!
Cot' damn! But the n*gga wanted money!
Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu!
Cot' damn!

[Verse 3: Pusha T]
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
Dog, 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

[Hook: Pharrell]
Cot' damn! It's a new day!
Cot' damn! But the n*gga wanted money!
Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu!
Cot' damn!

[Verse 4: Roscoe P. Coldchain]
I be damned if I die of starvation, things is f*cked up as is
So I bangs my cabbage; do you not know the most effective
Way of gettin' money, pull yo gun - rapidly
And watch you see the situation be corrected
Lord Heavens, why must I live so devilish
They say whatcha do comes back on you two times
I shoulda been died, but I'm still walking around wit two nines
Who wants to be a millionaire, me, and you ain't got no more life lines
You a snitch n*gga fighting crime, go ahead and tell the police
Cause every move you make, I'mma throw a slug
And hope you choke blood, n*gga, on every breath you take
Not to be broke, cause Coldchain fate witness
Naturally spitting from me, human gat, field to the limit
Head to diminish, loud n*ggas talking gibberish
Grind beef, I deliver it, with complimentary service, for certain
Live in the living room, searching to hurting you

[Hook: Pharrell]
Cot' damn! It's a new day!
Cot' damn! But the n*gga wanted money!
Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu! Hooooouuuuuu!
Cot' damn!

[Skit: Female Voice]
Dear Diary, here I am once again writing to you 'bout this b*tch-ass n*gga. You know I was f*ckin' with him an' all that
Supposed to be a creep thang. I understood about his b*tch aight, I accepted her. But then he gon' come with this bullsh*t
You know I thought I had time invested in this motherf*cker. He gon' tell me, you know, "Things need to change a lil bit. We need to slow down a lil bit". Slow down for what?! Not for that b*tch! I know you not tryna slow down with me for that motherf*cking raggedy ass b*tch. Yo girl this, yo girl that. Your girl is a motherf*cking fake wearing all that fake ass sh*t she buying out of somebody else's motherf*cking truck. See, one thing 'bout me I'm an authentic b*tch. I put yo' motherf*cking ass on it, you still buy her fake motherf*cking sh*t. Her and that teeny lil ass motherf*cking car you gonn' throw some cheap ass twenty dollar rims on that motherf*cker. You think you got some motherf*cking bag, b*tch you ain't got no motherf*cking bag. I showed you the motherf*cking ropes. I showed you how to motherf*cking dress with that lil bit of money that you had at that point in motherf*cking time. I drained yo' motherf*cking ass. I drained yo' motherf*cking ass broke and here you gon' riding round in a '95 car tryna get a 2002 b*tch motherf*cka...