Guilty Simpson - Dynamite S.O.U.L. lyrics

Ladies and gentleman Ladies and gentleman Ladies and gentleman Are you really ready for some super dynamite soul? [Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] I body tracks with a brutal approach flying coach First cla** when I'm dropping sh** I wrote Convert cash in airports and splurge on whatever I desire The lead writer, I street fight ya, ya'll play Street Fighter Big difference, miles apart, styles is darts On point I parallel park on street cats Feed your back a knife, a reckless [?] Watch your tone around here Even kingpins get dethroned around here They don't give a f** about what they buck buck Bring me the truck tucked and sleep with tough luck Harsh reality, spark the Cali tree In the motor city where they chart fatalities B-boy stance the place Cause the poppers gonna pop, the breakers gonna break [Verse 2: Ra** Ka**] I'm one of the depressed children, top billing If sk**s would pay the bills I'm worth at least a hundred million A lot of rappers be illin', hit 'em with the dealing Turn an overnight villain, catch a case and start squealing I'm standing on a square like a slice of Sicilian Afghan vet k**ing, f**ed like the debt ceiling I treat crabs like my red-haired step children Slap 'em around, f** they moms with my s** healing Word to Marvin Gaye I put the same gun you bought me to your chest and blow you away Pause, period periodically delirious FM radio is wack so I usually bump Serius Effect the Gucci belts microphone plug Makes me not very likable Make all the b**hes fight like my dick'll do Walk into the booth with a mouth full of pick to chews [Verse 3: Fashawn] I'll tell you something that you need to learn You ain't seen beef 'til you seen an urn If it ain't about money why would I be concerned If not my Coheeba burn Yes, flicking ashes on my adversaries Got a list of maggots that I'd be glad to bury I used to burn chronic out of bible papers Street disciple ripping pages out the Book of David Over the stove with the recipe Chef Boyar-G flow effortlessly Your punchlines couldn't make an eye swell You ain't Mike Jordan you Montell Silly you for thinking you missle-proof Now I'm just positioning my pistol to hit your troops I bridge the gap like a dentist Reinvented the reinvented, no limit so independent And I gotta be the villain, I'm probably just a minute Here's the middle finger case any got offended Llama in the linen, vodka in my system Prada with my hands that pray that the father forgive this Rhyme schemes like mescalin to the fiends Nothing coming between my regime, naw mean [Verse 4: Skyzoo] The menage of a kick and a snare Between that a mirage for the vision-impaired I'm in a league where the stars can't fit in they chairs So when I speak I barrage whoever sittin' in there The armrest turned conquest, I'm just here to Contra the compress Automatic concrete your congress A sixteen sound like I was drumming out We just trying the Upper Eastside and take the Drummond route Know me in the building for the walls that be jumping out I be on my Willis if Janet try and come around Singing Mo Money, I'm singing Mo Money Harmony hundreds couldn't get a note from me Regardless we're on it there's nothing like 'em that be on The bargain they wanted just walked 'em right into the norm I loop 'em up a song, open up the beat and Then name somebody doper than the dope you get from me And holler when you think of 'em [Scratching] From the soul ya'll Soul Dynamite soul