All Eyes On Me (Revisiting Cold Blooded) lyrics by Keith Sweat - original song full text. Official All Eyes On Me (Revisiting Cold Blooded) lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Keith Sweat – All Eyes On Me (Revisiting Cold Blooded) lyrics
[Intro]
Goddamn I look good
Somebody slap me, huh
This club does not want 2 point 2 seconds of me
But I'mma give it to 'em anyway, uh

When I walk in the door, niggas be like "yo"
Stare me up and down even when they with they ho
It amazes me them niggas don't care
All fade tight, ass everywhere
And before I can even get a chance to blink
Wild mutha-fuckas start sendin' me drinks
But I send 'em all back, 'cause I got my own loot
Suit? It's a Miaki
Boots? Gianni Versace
It ain't hard to see
I got my own money, don't fuck with me
Can't touch me, check my steeze
Swap meet bitches, please, for real

1 - [Keith] (Strings)
Cold... Blooded
(When I walk in the room, all eyes on me)
Let me get your number
(Got ice on my hands, ice on my feet)

Cold... Blooded
(When I walk in the room, all eyes on me)
What more can I say?
(And these are the sounds they be makin' at me, say what)

[Strings]
Uh uh, yeah yeah
Uh uh, yeah yeah

Uh, picture me Strings, Pavé diamonds in my ear
I push a new somethin' every year
Hip Hop sweetheart, nigga pleaser
Coochie value, like the Mona Lisa
99 escalade, smellin' like Chanel
Bumpin' my shit, on the way to Bloomingdale's
For a shopping spree, niggas jocking me
Black tale centerfold, no stopping me
And your bitch is jealous 'cause I'm gettin'
While and you out the first to tell her
I won't tell her, I'm hella plus she getting dumber and dumber
'cause while she was in the dressing room, he slipped me his number
And said call me baby, you're a real lady
Workin' those Girbaud, spittin' flows at shows
I check the videos and the skills
Can I get your autograph on the 50 dolla bill, for real?

Repeat 1

[Strings]
Uh uh, yeah yeah
Uh uh, yeah yeah

Freeze

Yo, I got a fat boy on my jock
Nigga got a wife but he got a fat knot
'Member when it was hot, rollin' down the block
In my summer car, 320 E drop
Tell the wife get it together, she ain't cute
Rockin' that sweater with them daisy dukes
And that nigga know it
That's why he with the fat tale poet
Spittin' game like a nigga sayin', baby pass me Moet, for real

Repeat 1

[Strings]
Uh uh, yeah yeah
Uh uh, yeah yeah

Repeat 1 (without Strings)

Repeat 1 to fade
×



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