Young Nudy - Soul Keeper lyrics

Published

0 414 0

Young Nudy - Soul Keeper lyrics

[Intro] You fu*k ni**as better stand the fu*k up for your motherfu*kin' zone, you b*tch You ain't stand up for what you doin', then ni**a, what the fu*k you doin' it for, fu*k ni**a? fu*k wrong with you, ni**a? And you gotta feed your family regardless, fu*k ni**a You know me, huh? (COUPE) Y'all ni**as be talkin' too much, I don't do that You know what's up with me, ni**a, yeah EA them, haha, slime, SB, yeah, PDE [Verse 1] Run like a track meet, I chase you down, b*tch ni**a How do I feel? Like hittin' a stick, I might just kill a ni**a (Yeah) Kill him and his partner evidence, you know I spin, ni**a (Yeah) Get rid of rich ni**as, yeah, I take sh*t, ni**a (Uh-huh) Never been a hater, I make money, I'm a motivator fu*kin' all these b*tches 'cause they fu*k with me 'cause I got paper And exotic in my body, smokin' on Miyagi (Ooh) And I'm choppin' up this brick likе I do karate (Do karate) I might trick a country boy and sell him clеan, ni**a, I got it (ni**a, I got it) So much baking soda in that sh*t, you know I love the profit (Yeah, yeah) And I like to stack up all this sh*t and add it up, I got it (Yeah, I got it) Two months, b*tch, I just made 'bout five hundred thousand (Five hundred thousand) That's just off features, b*tch, now don't think we is equal (We not equal) [Chorus] I just made 'bout one-fifty off of reefer (Yeah) And I smoke it, I'm a chiefer (Yeah) And I put my army on a lick, gotta feed my people (Yeah, yeah) When it come to that money, you know I am evil (Uh-huh) Stick talk, the grim reaper (Stick talk) Sweep you off your feet, I like that street sweeper (Street sweeper) In your dreams with MAC-90s, jeepers creepers (Uh-huh) Smoke your ass just like this reefer (Smoke you) 9-1-1, he tryna call them people, popped at all his people Showed that motherfu*ker we not beefin', you know how we eatin' (How we eatin') I don't like to beef with pussy ni**as if I ain't got no reason (Got no reason) [Verse 2] Shoot you in your heart, no co*k-back, pussy ni**a, know I squeeze it (Uh-uh) I don't need no backup, thirty round, yes, I do keep it (Do keep it) Take me a deep breath, exhale, start squeezin' (Baow) Shoot that motherfu*ker 'til I see that ni**a not breathin' And I put on stunna frames so these ni**as cannot see me (Yeah) Sit behind this black tint, black stick get to squeezin' (Yeah) Thinkin' 'bout some crazy sh*t, take somethin', ni**a, know we beefin' ni**a took somethin' from me, dawg, it's smoke, ni**a, at Four Season Shout out to the Hamp, they the only gang I know that squeezed it We were beefin' for no reason They went down the street, we like, "fu*k that sh*t, let's get to squeezin'" Now we strike the beef, we eatin' And I fu*k with a couple real Crip ni**as from Four Season And my dawgs, they passed on Boulevard, gang out for no reason And we from the Eastside and we handle straps, you better believe it Thirty on us, ni**a can see Throw this sh*t up, big-ass B Throwin' up the pyramid You know where I'm from, I'm PDE 'Til the day I D-I-E, you ni**as cannot fu*k with me (Yeah, yeah, yeah) And I got your b*tch, she on my T-I-P (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Rubber on, no Eazy E (Damn) b*tches know it's M-O-E (What?) I ain't stuntin' no M-O-B Money over everything when this sh*t come to me [Chorus] I just made 'bout one-fifty off of reefer (Yeah) And I smoke it, I'm a chiefer (Yeah) And I put my army on a lick, gotta feed my people (Yeah, yeah) When it come to that money, you know I am evil (Uh-huh) Stick talk, the grim reaper (Stick talk) Sweep you off your feet, I like that street sweeper (Street sweeper) In your dreams with MAC-90s, jeepers creepers (Uh-huh) Smoke your ass just like this reefer (Smoke you) 9-1-1, he tryna call them people, popped at all his people Showed that motherfu*ker we not beefin', you know how we eatin' (How we eatin') I don't like to beef with pussy ni**as if I ain't got no reason (Got no reason)