Song parody of
Soulja Cry
by PT Tommy Mac
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You might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die
Might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die, A soulja die
They multiply, come in size
Cut ya neck, circumcise
I tell the truth, it hurt to lie
I'm thinkin bout it, on the line
This the shit they talking bout
Riding round license bad probably worn out
And the pistol on me too cause I'm on it now
Ain't gone say that shit again it's a warning now
I got God on my side you can say I'm cheating
But I ain't cheating for no reason my bitch still wanna leave me
Back in Bluefield had a nigga call me Tomcat
Been that nigga back when Charlotte was the Bobcats
Been that nigga back when Harding caught that bomb threat
I be up before I wake getting my mind dressed
I got love for the snakes I'm on my slime shit
Without shade it wouldn't be no need to shine bitch
And aye
I dont need a watch to tell the time miss
Summer time round the corner niggas dying miss
Plus them houses on the corner smell like frying piss
Then you go to grandma crib she out there frying fish
Ignorance bliss nigga
Might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die, A soulja die
They multiply, come in size
Cut ya neck, circumcise
I tell the truth, it hurt to lie
I'm thinkin bout it, on the line
You might never see a soulja cry
You might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die
Might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die, A soulja die
They multiply, come in size
Cut ya neck, circumcise
I tell the truth, it hurt to lie
I'm thinkin bout it, on the line
This the shit they talking bout
Riding round license bad probably worn out
And the pistol on me too cause I'm on it now
Ain't gone say that shit again it's a warning now
I got God on my side you can say I'm cheating
But I ain't cheating for no reason my bitch still wanna leave me
Back in Bluefield had a nigga call me Tomcat
Been that nigga back when Charlotte was the Bobcats
Been that nigga back when Harding caught that bomb threat
I be up before I wake getting my mind dressed
I got love for the snakes I'm on my slime shit
Without shade it wouldn't be no need to shine bitch
And aye
I dont need a watch to tell the time miss
Summer time round the corner niggas dying miss
Plus them houses on the corner smell like frying piss
Then you go to grandma crib she out there frying fish
Ignorance bliss nigga
Might never see a soulja cry
But you just might see a soulja die, A soulja die
They multiply, come in size
Cut ya neck, circumcise
I tell the truth, it hurt to lie
I'm thinkin bout it, on the line
You might never see a soulja cry
