(Verse 1)
Still lookin' with a street perspective
Still tryna seek direction
But I'm lookin' with a bleak perception
Still tryna make key connections
Still tryna get a weeks extension on this weed investment
I still haven't been detected
But I'm still a U.C short of being arrested
And receiving a sentence for illegal possession
Cos of dealing intentions paying legal expenses
Tryna see it suspended
So I have to be attentive
But I still have beef intentions
With a sham I don't need to mention
Guess I see a need for vengence
Cos I'm still being egocentric
But listen 'til my breathing's still
If it manifests then I believe it's meant
You probably need to look deep to retrieve
The message
Sooner or later we'll all see the lesson

(Hook)
Cold and Calculated
In attitude and etiquette
(LD50 Style)
The cold side harbours my criminal form
Calculations form through analytical thoughts
Cold and calculated I'm of the chosen few
Don't speak to me unless... unless you're spoken to
And for the rest of my days I'll remain cold and calculated
Calculatedly cold

(Verse 2)
You never see me act hard done by
That's to be kept interior
Stressed inside with unaffected exterior
Never hear me talk
About the friends that I've lost
The word lost means they were never friends at all
If you see me don't attempt to pretend we talk
Or call me ignorant when you get ignored
I keep my circle small and it's justified
I didn't just decide
That we should just collide
Truth is that you were just disloyal
And what's sad is that I'm too hard headed to just look aside
Tried to put you wide
But that didn't work cos you'd just reply
That I'm immature
Well they say the biggest sign if maturity is admitting immaturity
So either I'm purely immature
Or Mature prematurely
Better that than the unjust
Of being just unworthy of being trusted

(Hook)

(Verse 3)
See being too cold that's the difference
Between indifference to shit that would leave the mind totally twisted
But being too Calculated?
That's the difference between instinction and
Paranoid inklings
Me? I'm a mixture
The genes I have are half of each
That formulates catastrophe
I used to try make relationships happen for me
And anytime they broke down?
Straight back to the streets
On my money's manufactured from trees
And trees manufacture money
Shit the cash I received
Invested into a dispatchal of weed
A mathematical key divided into three
Hundred three point point three's
With point two extracted for me from each packet
Maximum product is maximum profit
Which goes back into manufacturing weed
Which manufactures more cash
Back into weed
Back into cash
You ask me
That's more mutual than any fucking marriage could be

(Hook)