Soul Thang

Yeah

'Bout to tie my sneakers on this shit

Yo, wiz, what up? (Yeah, uh)

We about to eat this, word (fire, nigga)

Y'all know what it is, nigga

Need a hundred candles for this cake (Uh)

Back in this bitch (who got matches?)

Uh-huh, let's go (who got matches?)

Uh, one (Staten Island shit)

Yeah, uh, what? (Supreme Clientele)

Batman capes, Egyptian shines on the scale

Medallion smothered in Frosted Flakes

Traphouse, baggin' up nothin' but halves and eighths

Powder, we're raisin' cuts on a porcelain plate

Fentanyl, sixty CCs be the death of y'all

Burn like ethanol, fiendin' for omeprazole

Plug pulled the patterner down and took his weapon off

Get behind him, ain't that his man? And let seven off

Yeah, bark money, gold piranhas, shark money

Bust 'em open, shoved all the work right in the shark tummy

Arabian Arabs say, "Fuck the tariffs"

Your wonderful yacht, I made sure it docked in Paris

In a Millennium, slanted-face killers are Sicilian

Throwin' nothin' but bald-heads, Wallo and Gillie 'em

Automatic airborne whips take off wheeliein'

Melt niggas, watch they soul rise like helium

Yeah, rock your baby pops in the mouth and now his teeth gone (baow)

Bitch, how the fuck is you bougie? You drive a Nissan (get outta here)

Sittin' at the The Last Supper table, I get my feast on

Bing-bong, pickin' out diamonds to put my piece on (cha-ching)

Your shit ain't hittin' like this, so don't even bother (nah)

Shit, I blew shawty back out, went home and did fajr (yup)

Twenties for the kids (ooh), a hundred to the barber (ah)

I see your whole style in my shit, call me your father (daddy)

We the dons of all dons (yup), all my bitches love to fuck

Mike Tyson hooks, plus a duck, uppercuts (hah)

All these fuckin' diamonds in my chain, that's a clusterfuck (bling)

You on your man's bike nuts to butt, what the fuck?

Keep runnin' your mouth, I might fuck you up (ah)

I get ignorant quick, but I'm a genius (yup)

Up north, they ate your food, now you bulimic (ooh)

I seen it, like a twenty-seven-inch Zenith (yup)

Uh, you worth what you got

I want it all, you gon' serve it or not?

My man staged the whole shit, then we circled the block

We sold it back in fishscales like we work at the dock

I told my bitch to stop playin' 'cause she twerk with the pot

I been pinned it, tell my GPS circle my opps

I shoot around 'til every shell come out the box

We top tier, see, a lot of niggas fail when they drop

Spur of the moment, I'll probably Wemby on your block

They used to call me for a quarter every time they need the pick-up

Fiend hit it once, see the vomit, hear the hiccups

Everybody runnin' through the crevices and curse us

Then you see me follow behind like it's a stick-up

I hop out gettin' money, slightly trimmed on the rugby

Watch me spin, do the dougie, cash rules, I'm gettin' money

Ain't a damn thing funny

To the point that I clear it out, fuck around, leave everything fuzzy (yeah)

Bear-skin rug by the fireplace

Nice auntie, Pam Grier body with the Mya face (fire)

Nigga, the K hold a ladder like the fire escape

My man had a good year, movin' birds out the tire place (uh)

We the elohims, the gods of the flows, nigga

That Medellín'll knock the smell out your nose, nigga

I promise you, try to run down on the bros, nigga

You will come face to face with defeat like, "What are those?" nigga

I'm the type to cook a bird in the crockpot

My supreme clientele had the fiends doin' pop-locks (I swear)

Feds rush the crib, Mama Love hit the top lock (mama)

My guns go "Boom, boom," never "pop, pop" (shoot your lil' shit)

I'm a mastermind that mastered mine, flash the nine

Yappin' shine, you asinine, he dead man, casket time

Nigga, it's Huey Reek Newton, nigga, barely sell

Fuck the sub, say how you really feel if it's really real