[Intro: Soul Khan]
What’s good everybody?
It’s ya’ man Soul Khan, with my homie Matt Bruff
I like the way that sound, Bruff
‘Bout to, do some work over this here beat, making this fly North American connection
Let’s go
[Verse 1: Bruff]
Stand back I’m the damn landlord of these rap cats
Who at war and can’t score with the half-ass
Rap voice, got the moves that you can’t void
Even like rocking those blues like I’m Brad [?]
Track’s poison with a venomous bite
So just don’t, step to the mic or I’m, ending ya’ life
And yo, presence is vital when tight beats are ready to rip
Leaving opponents all white breathing heavy and shit
The last rapper said bright dreams was heavy he sucked
And his woman looked like Steve Buscemi and such, huh
I fight demons, anyone that say they coming harder just likely confetti son
Yo I’m just looking for a writer with the solid raps
Who never acted like they took a lighter to a pot of gas
And you could never put a price on what I’m dropping cats
And never really saying shit but yo they talking smack
Sick of kids, yo my passion always into it
And here with Soul Khan, the tracks’ll sound ridiculous
Judging what I’m spitting shit is something that is imminent
Cats assuming I’m a chump that’s selling Ridalin and but I’m never giving in
It’s hard to finetune, give art to rhymes and, kids now their minds are
Misconstrued for the price of the songs
What’s, right and what’s wrong, there’s a fight going on, yeah
[Chorus: *samples*]
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing- yo- yo amazing
Still- still- still” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
[Verse 2: Soul Khan]
Well you know that I’m a dynamo, delivering the final blow
With the kind of tidal flow, that’ll leave your hymen broke
On the day Osiris spoke, knew it was my mission to rip it and bring it live to folks, ending on the highest note
Still want it raw baby?
I use what God gave me to brawl daily until I’m feeling all achy
The solicitor visceral, whose Hindenburg [?] preaching the risible
For speech inadmissible
It’s the school of hard knocks and you meeting the principal
Tryna give a little to the meek and invisible
Since a young boy, always had a crease in my ventricle
Reserved for the word and the dream, my guts
Of an age when the ways doesn’t mean that much
But when every dollar billing, our pocket goes to killing
You can’t really blame ‘em when they calling us a villain
Bullet after bullet putting heat in the chrome
Our little kids shiver sick with no heat in they home
Fuck that ‘every man to himself and each to his own’
Behind that’s another widow dying weeping alone
If it’s survival of the fittest then I’m fighting to the finish
With my man Matt Bruff in the cypher getting digits
But I don’t mean currency or telephone numbers
I mean peace from the people that can tell we forerunners
Forerunners, what’s good?
[Chorus: *samples*]
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing
Still- still blazing” “Then I leave him his leftovers”
“Still doing my thing, yo- yo amazing- yo- yo amazing
Still- still- still” “Then I leave him his leftovers”