| Intro:
|
| Yeah. |
| DC. |
| Stand up for your boy? |
| Oh, I go by the name of Kanye To The.
|
| The Roc is in the building. |
| And as far as I’m concerned, we’re about to bring
|
| that real soul back to the game. |
| John Legend on the backgrounds by the way.
|
| Let’s go
|
| Verse One:
|
| From what I hear Kanye is killing that game very bad
|
| My girl rockin' the little lamb that Mary had
|
| Little bit of ghosta style mixed with Mosta style
|
| I’m versatile, I’m the poster child
|
| Gettin' cheese so I’m supposed to smile
|
| Get it?
|
| We making hits like Sosa now
|
| Hit it!
|
| And I, hate when girls actin' boushie as hell
|
| And I already seen 'em naked like Blu Cantrell
|
| If I talk to people like they stupid as hell
|
| Do that mean God gonna make my kids stupid as well?
|
| Well
|
| Our Father, please for give me
|
| I am sinner, slash winner, slash soul inventor
|
| Chorus
|
| It’s so soulful man
|
| And when you hear, swear it feel like soul food man
|
| Verse Two
|
| Look, my mommy don’t be playin' cause she know I got my game intact
|
| I spit them lines that make a rapper have a brain attack
|
| And chickens know I’m gonna do it like I wanna do it
|
| And miscommunication, no we never run into it
|
| I got chicks like Samone and Colla
|
| Stay with lip gloss and Fendi bag beside her
|
| And your girl said she ain’t ready for me
|
| I’m in love so mommy got me singin' Teena Marie
|
| High above the Giovanni, she ain’t Gucci or Prada
|
| Climbin' in the Mirada, studin' like a scholar
|
| So I don’t even bother
|
| I be poppin' my collar
|
| I can get into your soul when I call you tomorrow
|
| Verse Three:
|
| I know you gotta lot of stress today
|
| Let’s hit the party like we just got paid
|
| Now if you really want to get away
|
| Say yeah, yeah
|
| Got people on your back constantly
|
| And you never get a second for free
|
| You know you gotta get away with me
|
| So say yeah, yeah
|
| Verse Four:
|
| Yo, I’ma worry bout the trades and ballin'
|
| I’m gonna trade it all
|
| I’d rather catch up on my paper and evade them all
|
| You sore losers picked the wrong guy to take a fall
|
| I probably train and fall
|
| For what they made in the fall
|
| Made it to a never-quite-was to an overnight buzz
|
| Cause the way I flip a metaphor, nobody quite does
|
| By the time I leave the club
|
| I’m weighing the pros and cons
|
| Cause she must have been a pro the way she approach the Cons
|
| And Con man is an army
|
| Money boss on
|
| We so big be hoppin' out when I’m tryin' to do my laundry
|
| But I ain’t even sorry for the way I get my doe
|
| Cause J, Kanye and Con got that food for your soul, go!
|
| Outro:
|
| Say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |