Lyrics Cold One - Madvillain
The
only
thing
constant
is
change
Still
out
in
this
motherfucker
Seem
like
a
nigga
ain't
never
gonna
get
the
fuck
up
outta
here
Niggas
just
don't
understand
the
story
(Did
a
lot
of
different
things
in
his
first)
Hold
the
cold
one
like
he
hold
a
old
gun
Like
he
hold
the
microphone
and
stole
the
show
for
fun
Or
a
foe
for
ransom,
flows
is
handsome
O's
in
tandem,
anthem,
random,
tantrum
Phantom
of
the
Grand
Ole
Opry
ask
the
dumb
hottie
Masked
pump
shotty,
somebody
stop
me
Hardly
come
sloppy
on
a
retarded
hard
copy
After
rockin'
parties
he
departed
in
a
jalopy
Watch
the
droptop
papi
Known
as
the
grimey,
limey,
slimy,
try
me,
blimey
Simply
smashin'
in
a
fashion
that's
timely
Madvillain
dashin'
in
a
beat-rhyme
crime
spree
We
rock
the
house
like
rock
'n'
roll
Got
more
soul
than
a
sock
with
a
hole
Set
the
stage
with
a
goal
To
have
the
game
locked
in
a
cage
gettin'
shocked
with
a
pole
Overthrow
'em
like
throwin'
rover
a
biscuit
A
lot
of
bitches
think
he's
overly
chauvinistic
Let
go
his
dick
if
that's
the
case
Rats,
what
a
waste
there's
more
cats
to
chase
Dogs,
he
got
it
like
new
powers
Woke
up,
wrote
and
spit
the
shit
in
a
few
hours
Sheesh,
been
unleashed
since
the
glee
club
Had
your
fam
sayin',
"Please
make
me
a
dub"
Since
you
ask
kindly
Where
he
been
behind
the
mask,
who
can't
find
me?
You're
blind
In
the
wine
zone,
leave
ya
mind
blown
When
he
shine
with
the
nine,
he's
a
rhinestone,
cowboy
Goony
goo
goo
loony
cuckoo
like
Gary
Gnu
off
New
Zoo
Revue
But
who
knew
the
mask
had
a
loose
screw?
Hell,
could
hardly
tell
Had
to
tighten
it
up
like
the
Drells
and
Archie
Bell
It
speaks
well
of
the
hyper
base
Wasn't
even
tweaked
and
it
leaked
into
cyberspace
Couldn't
wait
for
the
snipes
to
place
At
least
a
track
list
in
bold
print
typeface
Stopped
for
a
year
We're
hip-hop
sharecroppers
Used
to
wear
flip
flops,
now
rare
gear
coppers
He's
in
this
for
the
quiche
You
might
as
well
not
ask
him
for
no
free
shit,
capiche?
Oh,
my
achin'
hands
From
rakin'
in
grands
and
breakin'
in
mic
stands
Villain,
his
smile
stuns
ya
chick
While
he
put
himself
in
your
shoes,
run
ya
kicks
You
heard
it
on
the
radio,
tape
it
Play
it
in
your
stereo,
your
crew'll
go
apeshit
Raw
lyrics,
he
smells
'em
like
a
hunch
The
same
intuition
that
tells
him
"Spike
the
punch"
Curses,
he's
truly
the
worsest
With
enough
rhymes
to
spread
throughout
the
boundless
universes
Let
the
beat
blast,
she
told
him,
"Wear
the
mask"
He
said,
"You
bet
your
sweet
ass"
It's
made
of
fine
chrome
alloy
Find
him
on
the
grind,
he's
the
rhinestone
cowboy
Oh,
no
no
Enough
1 No Brain
2 Pearls
3 Boulder Holder
4 Borrowed Time
5 Monkey Suit
6 Can't Reform Em
7 Running Around With Another
8 Butter King Jewels
9 Sermon
10 3.214
11 Never Go Pop
12 Cold One
Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.