Lyrics:
Cold Jordan

touch with Jesus And in the special love of God And maybe ever get ready When he comes on Jordan's tide Now look at that cold Jordan Look at its deep

Translation: Grateful Dead. Cold Jordan.

happy boy A cold place for a man Familiar faces in a foreign land, oh oh The hands kept spinning around the face But the earth stopped cold at dawn

message goes to amateurs and pros alike We're the MC's that cold be doggin the mic You may be good but there's no one better We rock you so cold, you

talking all brown linen, huh [Rick Ross] Big black, and an icey watch Shoes on the coupe, that got a Nike shop Counts the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike box Grinding in my Jordans

bought a Lambo and got me a new Lotus. Rolling, straight strolling, we hold that, *From *(the "n" word) *some *of *when *of *dat *its *cold *dat *when *its *cold

with his ears to the fan Cause he hear all that cold shit, blowin' in ghost shit, go again lake front 92 Grand Prix red with the gold rims number 8 Jordans

could tip her, but I already get her Harder than I did her, same sh-t, get no different Aint no fun if the homies can't hit it Bitches, ice cold heart

, it was a visual bluff When I started to snaps all your rode 'em swoll Straight in control, flows'll fold, while hoes cold stroll Hold the set, I told Dramacy' go in next Gold diggin', cold