Uh, soul brother number
Rapper! Ha, what's good big homie
Ya know I got that Flava
Good evening ladies and gentlemen
This evening takes great pride in presenting
Uh, soul brother number 2
Here to take number 2 on any number 2
That's who's ever after me
Don't get my spot confused
Like a gang of dalmatians in the same room
I never sleep; you snooze, you lose
I'm on a consecutive leap
Slick wit' it, sippin' a 40, no WD
Splendid, ended my name on your brain
Like a paragraphs first sentence (mane!)
Please see the passion in this young man
Burn this bitch down even if I got one fan
Like, you hear this, your ears will Sun tan
I'm an army tank, you're just one man
And niggas talkin' bout they label offers
Knowin' damn well them labels off ya
You know you got it all wrong
When you start equating your success with Drake and Trey Songz
Soul
Where you need to be?
Where you need to go?
What you need to see? Lemme know
(Baby I can show you... Show you)
We only got one life
Live it to the t
But, take it from me
(Don't let time control yo, trol' you)
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
Whatchu livin' like?
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
I'm livin' like
I say I'm livin' like the world can't hold me
Mama can't scold me, like a lawn chair niggas fold me
Flow sounding moldy & dated
Rap game I hate it
But at the same time I'm in love deeply
I'm in love indiscreetly, stop looking for them neat raps
Go ahead get ya wet naps
Chicago poetic justice with my wave cap
I know some people mad at me 'cause I ain't wave back
Double impact; no jean Claude
Niggas got stories but most of them fraud
We are all flawed
Only difference is I display mine
If I say your music whack, that's a hate crime
You can debate I'm better than the next one
Each fan text one, I could a have million
Me and ab building, me and ab killing
I wish you would fight the feeling
King of my stomping ground
I don't fuck around, like a Tupperware top I shut shit down
I wear the underwear here, it's best you know now
When queers interfere I can feel it in the air
They ain't gotta make a sound
Ain't shit sweet
But the swisher full of weed where my thumb and my index meet
You don't quite cut the criteria
We keep trees on us like LRG, 'cause
Mass hysteria walkin' across the street, cause
They never seen a nigga so concrete
And you can understand that right?
You look a little dumbfounded
Believe whatever you looking for I done found it
I can show you the real and I can tell you the grind
But even t-pain get this shit overnight
And if, nothing else remember this
The smartest man in the world know we don't know shit
Tommy Black, wassup?
Tommy Black, wassup?
Soul brother number
