Lyrics

[Hook: F. Stokes] Uh, So let me get a soul clap Peace to Don Juan, yeah that pimp flow back NWA, hundred miles of running Trying to save little black kids, call me Mr. Drummonds Uh, so let me get a soul clap Peace to K Reg(?), yeah that pimp flow back Hennessey by the case, couple slabs of cush Tryin' to save lil white kids, call me Mr. Bush [Verse 1: F. Stokes] I be, fresh as breast milk from Oprah My flow's soul food, neck bones and (okrah?) Hiphop, I'm home, slipped off my loafers My face more suited for mug shots than posters World on my shoulder, stomach empty Do this for niggas that sip lean, peace to Pimp C Dollar for the gypsy cab When I was living in BK down from no string ave Buck fifty for three wings, couldn't afford the soda Tuned my craft up, now the flow's out the solar System, Chi-Town, baby I know you missed him Took more than love to lift him, off that futon Rappers sell, I need coupons Karlitos, where the (lease no longer rhymes?) Besides, me and the streets got a much stronger bond Artist, but sometimes, it's followed by the con And if you see me in bars, I'm followed by a blonde Style is golden, yours followed by a bronze Good dope, the connect just came from 'Nam So let me get a soul clap from out ya palm [Hook: F. Stokes] [Verse 2: F. Stokes] You know I come through, stunt some With (????) Rims turnin', nose burnin' from sniffin' that pale gate(?) Kin folks, (stale mates?), in the pen, they home Hit the streets for a few summers, then again they gone Then again they was too cool for working at (??) Next to immigrants, in a kitchen full of eminem's We're witnesses to a victim of genocide My pen be my weapon, niggas gone 'fore that ink dry Mamma used to think I was at school, but naw I was on the corner, OG dudes calling me 'nephew' God blessed you like he blessed me So much dough on the table, all we missing is jet ski's Now let's breeze Through the city where single mothers (???) Sit on front porches with fly swatters and think hard [Hook: F. Stokes]