Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Soulflexin', artist - K.M.D.. Album song Mr. Hood, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 08.08.2004
Record label: Elektra Entertainment, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
Soulflexin' |
Now, just to blow this up like I intended |
Straight from the Kausin' Much Damage will I send it |
I recommend hittin just fittin just fine then throw it up |
Vocals for locals, the whole nine, I’m blowin' up |
The birthstone kid, I got it goin' on |
Every time I throw it on, allied strength is what I’m growin' on |
I kick styles like maybe this one or that one |
Whichever which I bust, it’s got to be a fat one |
Like Walter Hudson, my rhymes is thick, son |
So, when you pick one, man, I’m gonna lick one |
God style, hard with no smile |
'Cause I profile, for the ignorant child |
And when I bust off, homeboy with no heso' I just bust at |
Point blank range, y’all think I ain’t livin' strange? |
I got this soul thing caught up in a head swing |
I’m on the mic with the Gods, and I’m, soulflexin' |
Straight from the flock with skills |
Pizzazz your whole cipher Subroc builds, as is |
As I jazz it up I grease your okey-dokey then |
Yup, I do the hokey pokey let my soul bend up |
Grown to be sixty-five inch |
Short to swing, this hood sport is the cinch |
Indeed I rap, ghetto folk’ll snatch your soul in tact |
Now, slap your head up, bob and catch stiff neck MC selekta |
The addict to this funk thing |
And it sticks to you dramatic like static cling, for granted |
Laps for years, I avoid troubled traps |
Help me out the hole, to the brother I’ll give double daps |
Cuttin' that old haps, to the straightening comb |
Maybe, twine the knots, I’ll have the nappy dome |
Sent to the home, crankin' with electric bass drag |
Kick 'em big, but won’t brag, I was hittin' into a rag |
I don’t slack, so won’t you let it off? |
(Let it off!) |
Can the MC selekta set it off? |
(Set it off!) |
Suffer the you can’t, my style is ambiguous |
Rockin' it 24/7, clock is broken tickless |
Broke up yup I’m on, the uppity uppity note |
I can rock styles that move, a party a party boat |
With clout no doubt I gots to boom the boom |
From Onyx my man, to Zev X my physical |
Yes, I’m braggin like a wagon wheel I roll |
I have my cake and eat it too, and lick the bowl |
I’m soulflexin' |
Yo yo, can I get up on this? |
Get up on this? |
Yo I’mma get on this, confusion, pure |
I collect dust and rust colored coins |
Trust rock a mic and must grip the loins |
From a ton gun a big slug, as quickly |
As I’m sickly, if sucks some of pig |
Plug my mic in, discuss this tons of dust |
That’s been busted for a rust-like tint, |
Despicable, duck, more Scrooge than Rickle |
No wins sucks, no ice cream, pickle sickle |
Now check, check, check it out, I’s no goody good |
I wreck you’re never luckin out so get the Woody Woodpecker |
Check when plaid slacks was a trademark, I made marks |
Now back taxes always stay at max of stacks so |
I’m a bad guy and I’ll snuff with a noogie (boo!) |
Some do slump punks but up jumps the Boogie Man |
I got a natural coppertone, tan and plus |
Eight hundred coats of gold in my glands |
And one can on the wall, one can |
If that can would, happen to fall lend out a hand, to snag it |
Ill ain’t nothin' spilled and be drippin' or leakin' |
See on, the lip I’m speakin' and be steady seekin', some soulflexin' |
The God Zev X is soulflexin' |
Yeah the MC selector was soulflexin' |
And the birthstone kid is soulflexin' |
And the Boogie Woogie men are soulflexin' |
And the S.O.S. |
are soulflexin' |
Yeah the God Ansaar is soulflexin' |
My man is soulflexin' |
Haji, and Sadat X be flexin' |
Alamo and Jamar be soulflexin' |
My man Diego D be soulflexin' |
The Gods from Long Beach be flexin' |
Yeah the Gods from Now Rule be flexin' |
Phife and Jarobi be flexin' |
Q-Tip and Ali be flexin' |
Posdonus and Dove be cold flexin' |
Maceo, Maceo be flexin' |
Superman Clark Kent be flexin' |
Richie Rich and 3rd Bass soulflexin' |
The cracker cracker Crackerjacks be flexin' |
And the L.O.N.S. |
be soulflexin' |
And the H2O be soulflexin' |
And be soulflexin' |
Stanley Winslow be soulflexin' |
And the be soulflexin' |
And my man Geeby be soulflexin' |
And the engineer Gamz be soulflexin' |
And Dante is like the worst person |
Yoooooooo, OUT |