Cold Winters by TYLR C Lyrics
Cold winters
Down in southern Michigan
I could never picture
Like anything better than
This paper and this pen
My wager don't expand
Since a teenager, I had all this shit planned
We all in danger, give him the backhand
Hit you wit this laser, now I take you to my land
Fucking heart-breaker open up my pineal gland
On top of all these glaciers, boy I'd be damned
If you took a chance
Up against me
Cause my shit be so advanced
Cold winters
Down in southern Michigan
Got me shivering
It got everybody bickering
The fucking king delivering
From TC to Saginaw
I ain't even mad at y'all
You taking all this adderall
Gotchu thinking thatchu supernatural
Boy, you fucking incompatible
I can tell you just a casual
Buying cigs at admiral
My music fucking masterful
Tying nooses blow yo head off like some mackeral, uh
(Verse 2)
Kinda funny you thought you could top me
Hands be getting bloody bitch you ain't no real MC
Ain't even gotta study i just gotta find a beat
You sounding like a dummy bitch my name it's Tylr C
No wonder you so grumpy cause yo lyrics fucking stink
No wonder you so chubby clean my spirit wit some pure LSD
N I could name drop
(but I won't)
But I'll take shots
(boy you just a fucking clone)
Why yo rates dropped?
(cause you paying for yo plays it fucking shows)
Yo persona be so fake, I know you'd hate, to be known
That's why you made yo name unknown
I got lots of issues
So after this, I ain't worried bout you
Cause you average
Fucking plastic flows sounding so damn monotone
You should be embarrassed, Cult Encounters pull up to yo fucking home
Half a milli, we da founders, hand us the fucking throne
(Verse 3)
Ain't know a thing bout wordplay
Bitch, you make absurd claims
Say fuck TC rappers
You forget that's where you live?
Bitch bitch bitch, shit shit shit
Rhyme it all over, then pretend you gotta hit
Come back when you sober, it ain't worth to try again
I been fucked over, I been locked up in the pen
Ain't no god damn posa, better think a fucking again
Open all these folders, 100 albums all harder than yo last
Who the fuck you think I am?
Better show me some respect
The last time I checked
You had a half a milli less
Then the cult
And that ain't even including, R.R.G
Now let's begin shooting, don't wanna mess wit me
All yo music been muted, bitch it's trash as could be
Down in southern Michigan
I could never picture
Like anything better than
This paper and this pen
My wager don't expand
Since a teenager, I had all this shit planned
We all in danger, give him the backhand
Hit you wit this laser, now I take you to my land
Fucking heart-breaker open up my pineal gland
On top of all these glaciers, boy I'd be damned
If you took a chance
Up against me
Cause my shit be so advanced
Cold winters
Down in southern Michigan
Got me shivering
It got everybody bickering
The fucking king delivering
From TC to Saginaw
I ain't even mad at y'all
You taking all this adderall
Gotchu thinking thatchu supernatural
Boy, you fucking incompatible
I can tell you just a casual
Buying cigs at admiral
My music fucking masterful
Tying nooses blow yo head off like some mackeral, uh
(Verse 2)
Kinda funny you thought you could top me
Hands be getting bloody bitch you ain't no real MC
Ain't even gotta study i just gotta find a beat
You sounding like a dummy bitch my name it's Tylr C
No wonder you so grumpy cause yo lyrics fucking stink
No wonder you so chubby clean my spirit wit some pure LSD
N I could name drop
(but I won't)
But I'll take shots
(boy you just a fucking clone)
Why yo rates dropped?
(cause you paying for yo plays it fucking shows)
Yo persona be so fake, I know you'd hate, to be known
That's why you made yo name unknown
I got lots of issues
So after this, I ain't worried bout you
Cause you average
Fucking plastic flows sounding so damn monotone
You should be embarrassed, Cult Encounters pull up to yo fucking home
Half a milli, we da founders, hand us the fucking throne
(Verse 3)
Ain't know a thing bout wordplay
Bitch, you make absurd claims
Say fuck TC rappers
You forget that's where you live?
Bitch bitch bitch, shit shit shit
Rhyme it all over, then pretend you gotta hit
Come back when you sober, it ain't worth to try again
I been fucked over, I been locked up in the pen
Ain't no god damn posa, better think a fucking again
Open all these folders, 100 albums all harder than yo last
Who the fuck you think I am?
Better show me some respect
The last time I checked
You had a half a milli less
Then the cult
And that ain't even including, R.R.G
Now let's begin shooting, don't wanna mess wit me
All yo music been muted, bitch it's trash as could be