Verse One
55 Degrees is cold to me
Yeah 55 is cold to me
You know where I live
And since I'm in the friend zone I'm callin' the sis
But when I'm in the endzone she's holdin' my dick
I better handle it now before I'm in too deep
But right before I die I wanna skeet two freeks
I got one sheet of paper called fifty things
I better handle it now
Problems tend to surround me
I dance in my room when no ones around me
Like Bobby how I let shit build up
It's like a hobby how I let shit build up
I write a couple letters so the wounds get sewn up
And that's not [?] if I ever do blow up
That's if I ever do blow up
I bet I better do blow up
Chorus
Loose Ends, loose ends, loose ends, loose ends
Verse 2
Standing in my four corner room staring at whatever
My mood sorta like the weather
My dudes in the studio getting better
All of the while a nigga tripping so some bitches want some liquor just to mellow me out
He found a hell of a doubt
The devil entered the crowd
Shit just like a cherry router I had to cut shit out
And develop an enery
Negativity was affecting the lesser me
Time to stand up, cut loose of the dumb shit
Open up my mind and head in the dungeon
Cut it off
Chorus
Verse 3
So you wanna be a baller, shot caller?
Rock chains and frames
Designer names and thangs
They stop calling
So you all in
You scraped up all your change just for some groupie dames
You could be one of a kind to find the goddess of god
But you as common as [?] who get killed on his job
Ramon in the hall so lay back
Cause it ain't nothing to put a motherf*cking tenth to the lax
Drop lives on imitators
And puff, we'll feel the vapors
And death papers ain't scary
Judge we seen them before
That's why I could never hate on what another man do
How he manage to eat meals, keep the head under roof
Cause most of these niggas is kangaroo
Flip flop, his jock
Is what they hoppin' on
Cause they on it, they think it's hip hop
The tip top is pretty lonely when you get there
But I'm pretty positive my peeps and posse do not care
As I prepare to enter the realm
To more cases of Bel
I'm done with all that falling down shit, man I already fell
So tell Pharrell man I need a route
But I'm still happy happy for him and for me and you
For us it's been so long since we've been on the cusp
I'm cutting off the loose ends like spoiled kids and the crust nigga
This is the year of the broke
That's probably foreign to you
Like when [?]
Chorus