This is a song about "Cold is my soul"

My soul is feelin full,

And i don’t need a cure

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Vision is blurring, losing myself, i hear the screams of my soul burning!

Sell my soul, price of coal

This shit has got my soul

A 45 trey deuce spade sprayed, you stayed

Tell satan my soul is his to take,

Niggas awful at dressing, they just a'ight at music

Tell me my soul is something different just cause i got a mic

My own soul i can't find

Cause i’m back on my grind

People be tellin' me i need me an african woman

I have already murdered you in cold blood, my work here is done

My music is my soul, can't sell it to someone else

Help me pay my little rent, maybe sit in a benz