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"Cold Pillow" lyrics by ERIC BIDDINES
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"Cold Pillow"


Keep in mind that I'm an artist
So I'm sensitive about my shit

Lay down like a zero
Stay indoor like a man, I don't want a hero
Fall on double mo
Got pocket size of pulp onion's marrow
Pillow case they told
Like a case on the first 48 ain't know
Where you find the place that would have came from dirt, dirt
South, I don't like this flow
Had to switch the tone, I ain't bid them on the pit
Be that even made a song, did that for DJ Booth
I told Ziggy give me 2 weeks he gonn' leave me alone
Who the hell gonn' follow up?
Got a co-sign, I done made 84 dollars
Blew it all on a fake gold chain
And then the whole industry see me colored
Nigga like we done seen your moves
It's time for new ass not a good issue
You're like a Andrew 3k Devin dude
Man bid crib probably bring it home to him soon
And I've wait for a long time, play the humble call
When I fought with the song getting all signs
Doing everything from the symbol and lyric
I mean that he nobody played it but a nigga want a crown mine
My shit with the bucket seats
No sir, I move, lord sign on me
Mad bone with a ont
Long [?] sleaze
I ain't got a purple drink tattoos
Learn hard way Nestor, how bout y'all?
You was up but you fell on off
Burn bridge, never shit on all
Like south, damn pay the bill on time
I had to wait for the deadline
Some bank keep money in pocket long
Huh, you don't really wanna get some time?
Seen the man lose faith, gave up
He don't wanna live this life
Prayed every day, wasn't in his heart
Pressing like that you will blow your mind
Getting all about paper
Cheese is good but how is rat's way worse?
End up in an old black curse
Crumming next on the floor from your auntie's purse
Seen everything nah it ain't no hurt
Got banned for a [?] work
Lost more time thinking I ain't worth
Madam Penny with a hole in it, piling dirt
Back on the road, boot bag with a book full of ass metaphors
He a boy out of farm Beach County
Fine 6 months I flew it you know
Church socks, slit on the floor with the floor like a wave
And a pimp in the corner
I'm out here with a brand new shave and a mouth full of gold
You can line up a summer
Say what you want, never say that you don't
Now times looking at my watch
And I count what I loss, still roll with the point
Remix, game in the fish tank
Still steaming, low cut assist straight
Steering wheel oh that with the wood grain
Bent way back seat lean like I'm drank
Stop with the punk late
Blessed like a Sunday
My thing designed the weak
Got you a loose on the field get a flag on the wrong pipe
Off for being in the center one time
Come here been out my name checking up signs
Picking up a check I'm bout to get to my grandma
Or one out of [?] to the niggas that I've been that

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