YOUNG CHRIS - Soul lyrics

rate me

(Intro)

Shit ain't been the same since I buried Cash

Time to brighten my future, kinda bury the past

Uh, watch it

(Verse)

Feeling A fresh out the cleaners

Hustler with a dope boy demeanor

Pistol in a tire where I hustle

Mama like please stay outta trouble

Gotta get it, gotta get it got the product gotta contribute

Gotta flip it gotta flip it hit the block where I distribute

See, my daddy always gone and my momma on her own

I'm just tryna make it home without a body on my chrome

Trappin' on the benches, trappin' worse, smokin' swishas

Fuckin' up the kitchen, tell my bitch to do the dishes

Smokin' out the pound, drinkin' liquor out the pitcher

Nigga, this is mostly fiction, neva read otha scripture

Hella heavy get wrapped, I'm makin' it hot

I'm like gimme the gun, Coby takin' the shot

Yellow caution, leavin' blood everywhere

Neva sad song, candy lights and teddy bears

Muthafuckas!

Red _____(?) tag, and momma gotta meet at the morgue

Skip the talkin', no discussion, just a whole lotta bustin'

No repercussion, gotta even the score

Shits been rangin' where the niggas been hangin'

Choppas aimin', can't rap when it's raining

Harder the jungle, comfort the pavement

Ready to rumble, I stay strapped for the hatin'

Why they hatin', I'm just

(Hook x2)

Young nigga with trae pound slugs

(Holla that!)

My whole life done hung around gangstas

(Yeah)

Taught well, was raised by thugs

(Yup!)

Taught to shoot first and show no love

(Verse 2)

Kickin' the doors, strip 'em naked

Make em tape this

Find the work, take it, ransack it, leave it bakin'

Killin' yo favorite... shows, get caded, crystal waitress

Serve and leave the hospital patients, he didn't make it

We're Jamaicans smokin' paper, liquor got me faded

Takin' pictures, takin' pictures, niggas got to hate it

Breakin' tables outta Vegas, recognize the playa

Meet Jamaicans, if you like it jeopardize the paper

Get that money instead of hating

And get here first, with no hesitation

Get beat down, left in the basement

Yellow tape up, diggin' that grave up

Strapped down from the waist up

Fronting frown with my aces

In a danger song, dodging cases

Crown world neva made the papers

Grinding, selling crack to my neighbors

Dealing the cars that they gave us

I'm a

(Hook x2)