Lyrics Soul Provider - Blu, Exile

Soul Provider

«It's so amazin'»
«From the soul y’all»
The soul provider, gotta lot on the skillet
Grilling it hard-boiled, charcoal filling
The dark villain and the light-skinned niggas disguised
My mind’s sickening, define vicious written in rhymes
Times tens-it, to describe how my line’s ending
Your fine imprint, described through your mind’s index
My line chin-checks, and shine through your blinds, instant
The sun syndicate, fat as Biggie with no Pun intended
No pun intended to live, I pick up where we slid and run illest
Til I buckle and become winded
And all the air from out my lungs slips into the sky like weed smoke
My peoples need hope, and I’m the one with it
The soul provider, cold as fire, hot as ice
Rock the mic til I retire, die the son of Christ
Becoming one with life, to live like death is uncertain
One curtain left and I’mma die with my gun bursting
Tongue cursing til I must become one with the Earth
Heaven and hell I conquer, whichever comes first
Known to rebel, my soul a la mode
My soul a la mode, the soul provider
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«It's so amazin' and still blazing»
«From the soul y’all»
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«Cause I know I got that soul»
Sacred living, sinning like you can’t forgive him
Suspending time with my time spent rhyming about nonsense
Like saving religion, drink sipping, letting my mind spin
Thinking about my mom and pops, how they designed this nigga
Mix of Al Green and Pac, rock the soul tracks
Rapping about surviving on the block, black top, asphalt talk
Walking through the fire like a soul provida'
Poppa made a dope rhymer
I’ma ghetto nigga sipping liquor in pajamas
Not old enough to rock clubs but still do
Real soul provider, I gotta ill crew
And best believe they with me in the city like sex
Metropolitan connects, plus the steel crew still do dirt
Baggy jeans and my ill blue shirt
Feeling fresh, yes, while Ex' queue the keys
I’mma ease through your soul, like you’re blowing trees
Best believe the soul provider
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«It's so amazin' and still blazing»
«From the soul y’all»
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«Cause I know I got that soul»
I flow krypton, knock your Superman off his feet with his kicks on
Niggas keep my shit on repeat, and no matter which song I get on
I shit on beats, pull out my dick and take a piss on trees
I’m raw dogging it, look, my rhyme lines flow sweeter than swine
So any mic that I find, I got the right to be hogging it
Talking shit, loud mouth, wild out, starting it
Alcoholic slaughtering my vocab department
So pardon if my talking is slurred, pants sagging
Hands grabbing on my nuts, clutch sparking my herb
Relaxed lingo, beef low, ghetto as Black bingo
Redefine the the line of rap singles
The soul provida', hold the mic and open fire
Drop my nuts, I give a fuck about a pro hire
The new Pete and C.L.
was Exile and B-L
We bang jeeps to break beats, blaze trees and females
You ain’t me
It’s the S-O, U-L pro-vide your mind, with a West Coast soul vibe
It’s the S-O, U-L pro-vide your mind, with a West Coast soul vibe
Yeah the soul provider
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«It's so amazin' and still blazing»
«From the soul y’all»
«Imma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibe»
«Cause I know I got that soul»