Sim-E - Sole Progression lyrics

rate me

Feat. Roc Marciano

(Verse: Sim-E)

Yo, I pun black in woods, bron' cratch the hoodz

Swong acts the wood, dun' ask the hood

Sun wracks is good, why yungs pack da sugar

Then act more hollywood than act so good

See me strapped with &*() in the lack with snubs

Drink yack in clubs, congrats and hugs

They said they lie?! My New Yorkers dead

So you tap with barz while we keep it alive an' scratch unpluggeds

Unmatched dup, shots slapped the cous'

In da audio is the only time you crack wit thugs

Pourin' liquor on the ground from patcha crub

All the people at the cop behind the gat, murdid

Man, that's not love, mask and glove, a blood bank

We got more packs of bloods, as longs as the man keep givin' us

Whips, cracks and hoofs for ^&*()

That's a master good tha!!

(Hook x2)

Oldest profession is the sole progression

The soul possession, opposite of sole possession

So save 'em Hill Maries for an old confession

Yo, you're reppin' real hip-hop, low direct

(Verse: Sim-E)

Aye, yo, I met XP thru mutual friends

To love on, he could see me in da future where ends depend on

The chicky with the speed whacha spend

Or if you blow a true Coupe on a Benz

Come car fairy to belief, respect

Scary for me? Down south my sons bury for heat

Murdersome feet in the ground while burnin' 'em street

If you ain't ludicrous, why you disturbin' da peace?

We prefer to fight you on like a man, than beat ya down

With our hands on the body, slam ya in the Wild Wild East

We can take you to the park like a wi-fi beast

See who got the best sniles and beatsters off the streets

Clowns &*() wid da three rings circus, if a four pound

Kill ya you'll bleed on purpose

We dead &*() thrust ya wit a dread not

Tell 'em bad Roc! 'Move a muscle, boy, you bed not'

That's my BK counterpart, we tear towns apart

We spray miles of dart, Slim-E found the mark

And I relieve it on the face of this biz

Cause the way I'm whippin' moppers is a disgrace for the kids

(Hook x2)

Oldest profession is the sole progression

The soul possession, opposite of sole possession

So save 'em Hill Maries for an old confession

Yo, you're reppin' real hip-hop, low direct

(Verse: Roc Marciano)

Yo, Bot Leg old, Roze's poor

Fours blow off like Koltrane's on

Cocaine wars, this is more like the old days draw

Left ya with the soze war

Gt banged on old Ojay songs, spray kay with gloves

OG war

Don't chay the shades, blown straight off

^&*() the chain out, stain os wars

Strays of chord layed on floors

Erases slit face engages applause

For way you just sought, we labor it forth

Slayed 'em, what you see is flame from the torch

Slaves are bought, drain for a court

Trained for war, my terrain is coarse

You remains a corpse, related default

When haters talk, take it with a grain of salt

Muthaf&*()

(Hook x2)

Oldest profession is the sole progression

The soul possession, opposite of sole possession

So save 'em Hill Maries for an old confession

Yo, you're reppin' real hip-hop, low direct