Lyrics Soul Provider - Blu & Exile

Soul Provider

Yeah… somethin' classic… in the makin'…
Feels good don’t it?
Exile… the one and only… heh…
The young homie…
You going up against a nigga with a whole lotta soul partner
The show shocker, rock ya soul when I flow partner
The dime studded Marauder
Knocking the globe outta alignment when I’m rhyming
Soul shining like I’m gold mining
So don’t bother competing
His own Father don’t know how to defeat him
He like a robot, knocking the cement into your soul rock
Leaving the hoes jocked, Now you can see, concede it
Cause his speaking leave your dome cocked
The soul provider Flow live, shit is so hot
Do not touch
Brought the real, and let the whole block crush
Now young bucks call him ill from the still (It's Blu)
Even though the name been the same since I came
Ain’t a damn thing changed but the skills
I still gotta blow spots up
Just to show you that you won’t stop us
And never will, it’s the so cal SoCal resident, I represent
My locals, Blu’s style is heaven sent, with Exile for President
The showstopper, rocks spots and flow proper
No album outta fat beats, but still know how to pack seats
With no problems, spitting my soul outta rap sheets
That I been giving Cali that sharpest breeze and khakis
That’s me.
The B-L-U no E;
I’m
On the block posing like an O. G
California sun, soaking gope and Old E
Token to my tongue, smoking like my gun blowing heat
Out the end of it, speak kind of venomous
Walk similar to how I talk, dawg I’m limitless
'Cause my ten toes are taking any place my mind states
Deep thinker, ain’t sink a ship with my mindstate
Plus, I puff this and I’m three feet, sky high
Rising like the drum break, rhyming like I rhyme great
Take you whack rhymes out like a blind date
Fuck kindness, kill 'em with knowledge until they mind aches
And I stay killing the stage
Cutting line short like your phone bills ain’t paid
'Cause you’re cheapskates, the soul provider rocking week date
I’m letting off with anybody tryna steal my DJ
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
The soul provider