Текстове на песни:
Styles P Soul Clap

my pockets fat, not flat I like my pockets fat, not flat Check it out, yo, A.G. is living fat in the mental In other words, can I get a soul clap? Diggin

you openin' for Can tell your squad's artificial while approachin' the door So you should prepare, for lyrical terror that's pure Step up to the resevoir, of the soul proprietor style

pone muy dificil Se pone?, Se pone?, Se pone muy dificil Se pone?, Se pone?, Se pone muy dificil Se pone?, Se pone?, Se pone muy dificil Chain gang, gang bang P, P, P, P

cracked by drum tracks smack loud as gun claps Pin a crab to death with a thousand thumbtacks The Wu centerfold, it be's the Wind Ninja scroll Soul

Bitches gigglin' and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!" Where he go? Me I be loungin' between the ice Sippin' Don P with a dime piece right! Whisperin

C'mon Oh shit Yeah yeah Oh shit Oh shit C'mon c'mon Uhh, yeah yeah yeah, this is the motherfuckin' uncut Long time comin', ya heard? M.O.P., Big motherfuckin

us But the crowd kept clapping Blessed with soul?s lights So turn off your brights Overexposure will bring about a clear soul Don?t push, but piles For this here new style

by drum tracks mac loud as gun claps Pen'll grab the death of a thousand dumb tacks The Wu Sensai fold, it beez the Wind Ninja scroll Soul edged blade

We here, we ain't goin' nowhere Y'all motherfuckers don't know what beef is Ha ha ha ha ha, check out this bizarre Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G