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Correction Lyrics
Good For The Soul (STLNDRMS Remix)
by
Fatlip
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Lyrics
Yo, yeah Yeah Food for your soul, my lyricals are medicinal Third eye peripheral, I see it all, leave 'em in awe Even if it ain't intentional My mistakes are greater than what any fake n***a meant to do I stop the negativity and elevate in the spiritual state Something you define as a divinity, God No complex, I just stay humble Pa** me the platter, I got kush to crumble Stand tall like Mutombo, Lebron with the pen game I'm going in like I'm going insanе, you know my name Icon to the eightiеs, baby Don't play me, baby B*t*h n***as got rabies Is it me, or is sh*t getting crazy? End of the day nowadays nothing really faze me Unless it pays me, I don't even pay attention I'm about my money, that's just something I ain't got to mention Oh, so you're new in town? You New Edition, n***a cool it down We shoot clowns out their squad cars, bars On the blocks is the heavy metal rock-stars Making cops set a n***a free when we drop bars I vanguard your pop charts You pop torch, you're not hard, you're pop corn You're not hot, you just got warm And got warned when the shots swung Ayo, keys over locked doors We shoot the truth that will stop wars We're on the block with the mom and pops at the swap store We got ours, who got yours? Blu got more Bro, hop off that Jaguar I swear I told the w**** I wasn't born a day ago Coming out the bank with dough like I robbed the banker store Black and gold like the Raiders at the Lake Show Blu start balling and your pockets got their ankles broke, damn! How you stand like a grown man? With my cash on both hands, old man Step up to the problem when the mission is impossible Kick rocks, your progress gon front Bumps from inside of the trunk They hunker down when the artist in town I open eyes when I author the sound Why these cops never in hospital gowns? Pops' in a lot of pain now, since going under the knife Streets in a lot of pain now, but they been sentenced for life Well, I was raised up in a White Castle Obese prodigy with seven-headed Adam's apple Dragon snatched me from youth But I escaped through the booth Sniffing poisons til the roof of my mouth Felt like the roof of a house Insomniac, always grinding it out Not a sharp tooth left in the south So I split from the flatlands Saved myself from God's leather belt Only mom's, didn't need God's f**king help 'Cause what's praying to the sky save ya? A couple holy words spilled out on the curb 'fore they cremate ya No weed paper Forever blowed The Church of the Skypager
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