| And I don’t keep my head up, I keep it down cause God do
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| Ay look, don’t worship me, I’m not Christ
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| I’m not God, but I try to be
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| Check, check, check check
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| Damn right, I’m selling out
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| In case one of my niggas go to jail, I can bail em out
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| I heard that Lucifer’s the angel of music
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| This is preposterous, so much for Gospel we all stupid
|
| Look, toast to the gods, Del Amo Boulevard
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| That’s where I was, pacing back and forth like I was on drugs
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| And I was, but I was comin' up with some raw shit
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| It was either this or hittin' licks with whats-her-name and them
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| They had that work, turns out I’m sellin' crinack anyway
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| She been standin' in line since the AM just to hear my statements
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| I ain’t the black lipped bastard no more, I’m more mature
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| Call me the black lipped pastor, I walk on holy water
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| And Joseph ain’t my father, holla
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| Many gon' come, many gon' go
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| Only time’ll tell, only God knows
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| Coldest under moon, hottest under sun
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| Many gon' come, but there is only one
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| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| I told Punch I’ll probably get assassinated by the government
|
| Reverse psychology, they gotta keep me alive
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| To make like what I’m sayin' is lies, surprise!
|
| I just left Burberry and dropped five, like I went half on a dime
|
| But not this time, Soul-o
|
| And I don’t find it odd, I’m breakin' even
|
| Maybe I should’ve prayed to Jesus instead of Herbert Stevens
|
| I’d rather murder beats than murder people, for this reason
|
| I seek an instrumental in attempts to leave it bleedin'
|
| You a menstrual cycle with flower pedals to a Harley
|
| Rap Genius’ll decode it for me
|
| Homie
|
| I came from nothin'
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| No really, I came from nuttin'
|
| You got here, but you came for nothin'
|
| No really, you came for nuttin', bitches, and money
|
| Me too, I came for change, too much pussy in this game
|
| Whats my motherfuckin' name?
|
| Many gon' come, many gon' go
|
| Only time’ll tell, only God knows
|
| Coldest under moon, hottest under sun
|
| Many gon' come, but there is only one
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Soul-o, soul-o, soul-o
|
| S-soul-o, soul-o, soul-o (There is only one)
|
| Yo-yo-yo-yo look (Soulo)
|
| Who else could rhyme like me
|
| I’m making profit off of prophecy
|
| We built this dynasty on democracy and philosophy
|
| A lil geometry some vagina and a lot of weed
|
| A fifth of Hen, a pint of lean and a bible, G
|
| OD flow, A-B-Soul, if you forget the dash you uh wish you didn’t
|
| Who am I kiddin' I’mma artist arsonist a good samaritan with bad habits
|
| Kendrick Lamar on the acid tablet
|
| And a groove between Q and Langston Hughes
|
| Rock if he was a Rockefeller that was signed to Roc-A-Fella
|
| (Fuck Black Hippy)
|
| Huge views we need a telescope to tell you dope
|
| I’m not like you, I close my eyes and I see Metatron’s Cube
|
| No dream to sell you though my mind move like a monsoon
|
| Lagoon it’s true I wore the waves back in high school
|
| Life’s a bitch with STDs that I just hit
|
| The next ten years is T.D.E.'s
|
| I got dough but I used to shine poor unlike Shyne Po
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| Cause now Shyne po’and Shyne shine no mo'
|
| Thats how it goes when ya cons outweighin' ya pros
|
| I got three eyes two lungs full of OG but only one— |