I'm nice, yo, fuck it, i'm out cold
Franky lymon the lime light gets old
Seven years old in my heart, so i'm stayin' gold
Poor, working-class household, now i'm here out cold,
You're like the sun and winter, my pot of gold
But until my heart stop and turns cold,
You're my river runnin' high, run deep, run wild
North cold or south cold, can't really make up my mind
Skipping class and growing cold
All this paper i fold
But for long time i had gone cold
Is a space that now you hold
I feel so cold standing alone
Little latasha sho' grown
Nothin sweet when i attend, see
I'm cold on the cold turkey
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