Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Soul to Keep, artist - O.C.. Album song Bon Appetit, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.07.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: JCOR Entertainment
Song language: English
Soul to Keep |
(Stop the car… |
Brooklyn |
Do somethin to make me feel better |
— I'mma do somethin to make you feel great) |
It’s like |
Bon Appetit y’all |
Commonly known as O.C. |
to some of y’all |
My peoples call me Mush or Mush |
Say it with different twang, it means the same, nigga |
The love of her life to your wife is Von Zipper |
Shoot darts like cupid, leave em stuck on stupid |
How I manoeuvre, leavin em sayin oohs and aahs |
Your dream boat-type of man, I’m a god |
A straight sin to a love-struck sucker involved |
My niggas gimme pound, envious niggas they just nod |
(I see everything) to observe is not the word |
My style is reserved, a-ddress me as Sir Fly |
Gone is the humble kid, I’m gunnin for number one and shit |
Brooklyn born and bred, reppin my residence |
I can’t live with that, I’m reppin NY |
The rotten apple is a place where the strong reside |
Some of the illest have died, puttin them feelings aside |
But on the live, yo, never seen my cousin Chuck |
Words like cum like a bird suckin me off |
She tellin me let her know at the moment I blow |
I got sin in my veins, hope I don’t burn up in flames |
They say tigers nevfer change they stripes, whoever said it was right |
And I say love is life with larceny |
Chicken pieces wanna grease up with the darker me |
Or maybe possibly rotatin constantly |
You mufuckas don’t want no type of parts of me |
It’s Mush |
I lay me down to sleep |
And I pray to the Lord my soul to keep |
Rubbin on my rosary beeds |
That if there shouldn’t be a dawn |
That I rise and yawn |
Then so be it |
This is to my niggas, if I should die |
Just make sure my wake gimme a 21 gun salute |
Cock, aim and shoot |
(*gunshots*) |
Yo, echoin shots in your hallways |
This is for gangsta niggas fittin the MO |
I’m reckon that my medicine will leave you stimmo |
Just feel low, step in my world, there’s nothin to fear |
Who claimin they live, this is live right here |
Walkin with a slew foot and a bop |
Speak sideways when I talk |
Even when I’m not high my eyes are small |
Not very short, yet I’m not so tall |
But I got a big heart, big hands and some big-ass balls |
I spray walls like a dog, markin territories off |
Everytime I touch down in a city of yours |
I mix and mingle with my boys, shootin winks at the broads |
Shootin drinks to the players, keepin in peace is all |
With the fine rides with Wildlife niggas inside |
Ahmed,, Show, Bless, Flow, 'Nesse, Dre, Buck and PA |
My nigga, the women catch a glimpse |
As they focus they vision on these players and pimps |
Who keep it gully? |
(That nigga Mush) |
Who play it cool like Arthur Fonzarelli |
Dippin through my hood with no kind of worries |
On the block drinkin malt liquors and hard liquor |
Puffin a spliff while the cars ride by pumpin Jigga |
I’m from B-r-(double o)-k-l-y-n |
And if I wasn’t, nigga, then why would I say I am? |
I’m from the (slums) with the (bums) and the (rats) and the (guns) |
Where the drugs get slung, dispose condoms with cum — one |