be bumpin', dumpin' the bloody body Me never knew one that could flow with the tongue We comin' to shoot up your posse My niggas-they comin' up out the woods
finish the job Lyrical damage, a 1-2 punch, crush you amateurs Box and watch me execute like Cockins My flow pipin' hot scorchin', proceed with caution Murder any MC, ya soul
priciest flow so the nicest Righteous ices, wicked with the style and the wildest Been up the come up since our childhood Sound good just like our orchestra when we 'round wood
like Luda, I be like yea! You like it like that, dontchya baby? The flow's insane, and the stroke is crazy I stroke so good, like Tiger Woods And I
spot still tied to the streets like a ish knot aint nothing fake, I'm not a Rolly with a tick tock Atlanta repper in the home of the yankees Rose wood
of soul You're my kind of people (My kind of people) You're my kind of people (My kind of people) We gon' drank good, gon' smoke good The interior is all oak wood
the rain, scared to take a chance in the game Used to breakdance, it's a shame What money do to a nigga brain If he lose his soul what did a nigga gain
the indentured servant Forever in his place I wish I built a cabinet Of shiny bolts and wood Secret draws and hiding places Sculpted out of wood Secret
A prophet took my hand on all souls day He preached the value of deception Changing shadows by shape shifters rules Tales are never just for fools The
the tears of a million terrified brothers. And, Lord, Hear me now, I have seen the light, They have a conciousness, They have a life, They have a soul
see the brook and feel the gentle breeze Then sings my soul my Saviour God to Thee How great Thou art, how great Thou art? Then sings my soul my Saviour
Dirt road in the twilight, woods so cool and dark Up ahead pale neon, somewhere a dog barks Honky tonk moon Keeps shining on my baby and me Breaking
quick to turn dikes Sheets never come clean bled From yo crime scene mann Chorus: {2x} Verse Two: {D-Roc} Even thought yo mind was blind soul keeper
a real bitch-fight Pull .38's and kiss their girls goodnight Goodnight, it's alright, Jane Now let them black boys in to light the soul flame We
street And they push dem Cadillac woods And dem fellas on parole Tryin to keep them pockets swole But we gotta trust dem gods Neither one can save our soul
hood is the ghetto Catch a second wind, then begin again My hood is the ghetto Black magic in the hood, it's tragic but understood Crack addicts, crack windows, crack wood
Catch a second wind Then begin again My hood is the ghetto (Verse 1: Common) Black magic in the hood, its tragic but understood Crack addicts, crack windows, crack wood
a Used soup it still got life, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs Rock clubs like Tiger Woods In the hood to have my own reality show Called Soul
