And, and bass up the track a bit 'Cuz I, I'm here I hear that boom bish boom, knowhatI'msayin'?
Yeah, yeah, you know the Sense, soul with the De La Get all playas We the rhyme
Huh and the bizness, hah Gonna do it this it hot Like the Chicago
I divine of God theories, no need to be high exhale the facts 'cause I don't inhale lie Play the greater game, to bounce off my losses So I can the acres, the houses, yeah, the horses
Of course, much greater than your Benx or your Lex The to my comprehension is just too complex too complex, EFX be live like Das Making moves down South, to avoid the
And never the coin 'cuz dime-getters be gazin' They call me Luther Van, they say my style is so I'm fazin' those who're supposed to have the last 'Cuz even when I'm gone, I'm in the after
I haveta send respects to money makers Do not connect us with champaign sippin' money fakers Taste the quarter with spice from Chi-town Now what that prove, so full, you can't even move
I'm the D to the O, the V to the E And can't another brother cook delicacies I'm the P L U, the G to the One Walk around the earth, making money, having fun
And I'm the C to the O, M O N I sit and with a drink about how I'm gonna win I'm the C to the O, M O N I sit and think a drink
Do you wanna be a MC? Or do you wanna Do you be dope? Or do you wanna deal it? acrylic, I feel it, I'm the style molester I do a show, get Extra P's the Large Professor
In fact I get more hoes than Tessa, peep game a Refa-ree in soul of my Destiny, in the best of out of five Whip anybody ass at NBA Live,
Take a dive Greg Lougainis with his bitch-ass Rather be in Bebe's alley, than at the click with Not a hater of the players, I'm more a coach or an owner I to love her but now I bone her
At one point in rhyme, I I lost my erection But then I got it with the resurrection, blessings Upon rhymes, old man who him traitor Big Com Stradamus, niggaz, styles I
I'm the C to the O, M O N I sit and think with a drink about how I'm win And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E And can't no brother cook these delicacies
I'm the P L U, the G to the One Walk around the planet earth, money, having fun around the planet earth, making money, having fun Walk around the planet earth, money, having fun
I'm the from the coast of the Eastern flav' Droppin' more knowledge litter, on the New York pave' It's me, why, in the place to be Certified, as superior, MC
While explore to make it hardcore I make it hard for wack MC's to even step inside the these kids is rhyming, some timing And we get to racing on the mic, they line up to see
The killing, with stained egos on the ceiling My rhymes escalates black death rates Over musical plates, being played as the Kids thinking, stepping to the Soul, you're fools
Who claims to drop jewels but for now you do the I worry on what crew you run or what section of earth You reside, you're not a man So I don't deem it mandatory, taking your
But I 'cause my man says, Soul for the life You cried, "Keepin' it real", yet you should try it right understanding microphone mathematics Which leaves the currency in world status
And one shows, he posed threat to this one This one will that one into none Simple equation, zero, you shouldn't hero If you can't stand strong like the island I'm
Now I'm the P L U, the G to the One Walk around the earth, making money, having fun Yeah and I'm the C to the O, M O N I sit and think with a about how I'm gonna win
And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E And can't brother cook these delicacies See can't another cook these delicacies See can't another cook these delicacies
Ah, that's how, how I'm supposed to do my thing, huh triple it, alright That's how we do it, all the way from Island to Chicago The type of flow Yeah, it's fluent and we need to flow no more
To my man Mos Def, yo, he To my man Enola, yo, nonstop And to my kin de Calhoun, yo, nonstop Yo that girl MP, yo, she's
And to crew Camp Lo, yo, they nonstop And to nigga Pop Life, yo, he's nonstop And to my cousin Fudd Love, you he nonstop My brother Lucky and Pert, yo, they
And to my man Joe Buck, you know he And my man Extra P, yo, he's And my man Mike Divine, you know he That kid Baby Paul, yo, he's nonstop
And to the Jazzyfatnastees, yo, you're And my peoples Beatminerz, man they And to my man Mr. Bug, you know you're And yo, Litro, yo, he's
And to, my dean The Green, yo, you're And to my man Prince Paul, yo, he's And to that man Kid Capri, yo, you And A Tribe Called Quest, man, they And forget the Jungle Beez, yo, they nonstop
Let me you a little something about Soul, tell 'em son I be a piece of the East coast, so give a to Plug Wonder, why in the day who soaked his words in jigga So I ran a phrase in June, you didn't catch it 'til December
I'm a member of them kids the inner city Giving you kitties audible treats, you be aching for More money a pagan holiday Not the PJ's, yet I still got something to say