Lyrics:
ain't about who straight, who real, who fake, and who gay
It's about who pray
[Verse Three: Kalage]
All I know is charge cards, cars, and clothes
really Feel like sosa
They all tryna do, Like me?
Boy I really feel like soulja
Tryna cop a Double R it's not a range Rover
All white & black this bitch
Im
drugs you took
Stuck in a nook
Forced to do it by the book
Even though I'm a rook
Here lemme tell ya a tale
You in jail gettin railed
A piece of rail
Tell 'em n**** talk s*** now
They think you know they gonna go baw
I ain't scared of the law
Now bout to go to war
What it is n**** where you lose ya
I fucked her for free
And now you walk around like somehow you got one up on me
Nigga please, this your brother part
This nigga found Soulja Boy's
niggas used to sell dope, they was Backstreet Boys
Cops land 'em on the pavement, now they black street boys
Pins, trays, suits, how I'm mobbing
flock
Hood baby with the chicken plate
If its beef tell em pick a date
Tell my bullets to yeah pick a face
Find they name then I hit erase
Na I'm back
Se oye un disparo que no es pa mi
them boys lack identity
lord pray for my enemy
Hallelujah
OUTRO:
Consumed by darkness
Where is the light?
days and years past when you add it up that's life boy
My young nigga said Josh I ain't you ion work for these white folk
Big Soulja got the Draco I got
Know he hate to see Young Harry run it up
Use to shit on me I got more followers
Tell that boy he better hurry and follow up
I did what I could for em
'bout no muthafuckin' people
I won't rest till I see a nigga dead in the concrete
I be a TRU Soulja till I'm buried
I leave 'em worried, gettin' high for
the toy
He hopped out wylin'
Shooting crazy like Soulja Boy
Got him in the frame, snapped shots
Not a Polaroid
Thousand words I never said to the pigs
Keep
state of mind like a shooter
For the New York Knicks i'm the best
And if they ask Kawhi like the Clips
Tell 'em Dax got a glove with
The game in his grip
young ladies just drop their drawers
and when they drop em, I don't kick em, check it
Like the Fat Boys said, I "Brrrrrrrr, STICK EM!"
From that
my head low
I don't drink im getting high was barely getting by
Tell'em all this new shit finna pop my old shit still a vibe
Killer in the streets, he
the juice
Frustrating the mind of the weak
Fuck boys need to die in they sleep
Knocked off while they counting they sheep
While I vacation in Miami Beach
through the way,
Stay the fuck up out my face
Watch me tell em like (Woo Hoo)
Hoping I don't crash, pray to god like (Woo Hoo)
Slow it down a little, take
the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake (Gangland)
I pray the Lord my soul
To take, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Get at your boy, pull up on 'em
hurt murked put 'em in the dirt
Boy you better catch me first
So you finally get hurt murked put 'em in the dirt
Boy you better catch me first
(I
nigga) Let's do some shit nigga
We can turn this motherfucker into Dodge City motherfucker
Nigga I don't give a fuck nigga, can't you tell bitch?!
[Bizzy
yeah the b*tch she look golden
Hop in the whip and I drive like that b*tch stolen
Shout out Soulja Boy Tell’Em but I been told them
Beat a n*gga up, just
to the old me
Sugar coated no koolaid
Whats my name know its too late
Why he drop it got that new you
Im like soulja boy hit em with the you
Rockaway
Now
they slide they pop pills
When I slide
My mind clear
Got it by my side
Here
Soulja slide
In 9th gear
This my life
Not my year
Let em float no kite
Let
boys, they might shoot back at the red dawgs (oh)
I tell 'em plot plans, strategize, organize (yeah)
Immobilize a secret army and stay unified
How we
Discuss these i pray outro by soulja boy tell em Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In