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Swizz Beatz - Poison (Full Album) | Review | Hip Hop Ish
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Vocals
Pusha T
Pusha T
Vocals
Godfather of Harlem
Godfather of Harlem
Performer
Naki Snagz Levi
Naki Snagz Levi
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kasseem Dean
Kasseem Dean
Composer
Terrence Thornton
Terrence Thornton
Composer
Misha Mullov-Abbado
Misha Mullov-Abbado
Composer
Naki Snagz Levi
Naki Snagz Levi
Vocal Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Producer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Noah Goldstein
Noah Goldstein
Engineer
Rich Keller
Rich Keller
Mixing Engineer
Tom Kahre
Tom Kahre
Engineer
Zeke Mishanec
Zeke Mishanec
Engineer

Lyrics

They say they're cold-blooded Yeah, he cold-blooded Your neck too soft, put a knife to it Funeral room zone, get your wife to it (Woo) They say he cold-blooded Upperhand, who want it? Huh? Yeah, he cold-blooded Hit everythin in the daylight, huh? Police ain't comin' for some hours Niggas ain't really talkin' for some hours You gon' die if you try to take ours Boy, we cold-blooded, ha Black child born in the storm They had to bundle up to stay warm Bodega babies Strollers in the snow to the candy lady That sugar make the monsters of the '90s crazy Child rebel soldiers of the inner city The hate me now, Tyga's next to Nas and Diddy His mama fell in love with drug dealin' Diddy The only star left that was next to Biggie Little did she know, she was one of four And little did he know, he was one of eight Unknown siblings all through middle school With the same mean mug that was born from hate Yeah, bodega babies You wonder why these kids of the '90s crazy? Hide and go seek when the father's lazy And their mamas only want the early '90s Jay-Zs They say they're cold-blooded Yeah, he cold-blooded Your neck too soft, put a knife to it Funeral room zone, get your wife to it (Woo) They say he cold-blooded Upperhand, who want it? Huh? Yeah, he cold-blooded Hit everythin in the daylight, huh? Police ain't comin' for some hours Niggas ain't really talkin' for some hours You gon' die if you try to take ours Boy, we cold-blooded, ha They said his skin wasn't light enough And his future wasn't bright enough Little sister don't talk much 'Cause their uncle had the Midas touch Evil is as evil does Mama looked away, blamed it on his needle buzz Sold the food out the freezer when he needed drugs Beggin' like he Cool J when he needed love Yeah, bodega babies You wonder why these kids of the '90s crazy? Broken Black homes is the modern slavery You can't raise a savage and deny the rabies Woo, bodega babies Yeah, bodega babies How loud I got to scream for someone to save me? And now I'm in the cell from everything you made me They say they're cold-blooded Yeah, he cold-blooded Your neck too soft, put a knife to it Funeral room zone, get your wife to it (Woo) They say he cold-blooded Upperhand, who want it? Huh? Yeah, he cold-blooded Hit everythin in the daylight, huh? Police ain't comin' for some hours Niggas ain't really talkin' for some hours You gon' die if you try to take ours Boy, we cold-blooded, ha
Writer(s): Kasseem Dean, Terrence Thornton, Misha Mullov-abbado Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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