So(ul) Amazin' (Steel Blazin')

[Intro] So amazing From the soul y'all [Verse 1] The soul provider, gotta lot on the skillet Grilling it hard-boiled, charcoal filling The dark villain and the light-skinned niggas disguised My mind's sickening, define vicious written in rhymes Times tens-it, to describe how my line's ending Your fine imprint, described through your mind's index My line chin-checks, and shine through your blinds, instant The sun syndicate, fat as Biggie with no Pun intended No pun intended to live, I pick up where we slid and run illest Til I buckle and become winded And all the air from out my lungs slips into the sky like weed smoke My peoples need hope, and I'm the one with it The soul provider, cold as fire, hot as ice Rock the mic til I retire, die the son of Christ Becoming one with life, to live like death is uncertain One curtain left and I'mma die with my gun bursting Tongue cursing til I must become one with the Earth Heaven and hell I conquer, whichever comes first Known to rebel, my soul a la mode My soul a la mode, the soul provider [Hook] I'm a hit you with the words that'll make your soul vibe It's so amazin' and still blazing From the soul y'all I'm a hit you with the words that'll make your soul vibe Cause I know I got that soul [Verse 2] Sacred living, sinning like you can't forgive him Suspending time with my time spent rhyming about nonsense Like saving religion, drink sipping, letting my mind spin Thinking about my mom and pops, how they designed this nigga Mix of Al Green and Pac, rock the soul tracks Rapping about surviving on the block, black top, asphalt talk Walking through the fire like a soul provida' Poppa made a dope rhymer I'ma ghetto nigga sipping liquor in pajamas Not old enough to rock clubs but still do Real soul provider, I gotta ill crew And best believe they with me in the city like sex Metropolitan connects, plus the steel crew still do dirt Baggy jeans and my ill blue shirt Feeling fresh, yes, while Ex' queue the keys I'mma ease through your soul, like you're blowing trees Best believe the soul provider [Hook] [Verse 3] I flow krypton, knock your Superman off his feet with his kicks on Niggas keep my shit on repeat, and no matter which song I get on I shit on beats, pull out my dick and take a piss on trees I'm raw dogging it, look, my rhyme lines flow sweeter than swine So any mic that I find, I got the right to be hogging it Talking shit, loud mouth, wild out, starting it Alcoholic slaughtering my vocab department So pardon if my talking is slurred, pants sagging Hands grabbing on my nuts, clutch sparking my herb Relaxed lingo, beef low, ghetto as Black bingo Redefine the the line of rap singles The soul provida', hold the mic and open fire Drop my nuts, I give a fuck about a pro hire The new Pete and C.L. was Exile and B-L We bang jeeps to break beats, blaze trees and females You ain't me It's the S-O, U-L pro-vide your mind, with a West Coast soul vibe It's the S-O, U-L pro-vide your mind, with a West Coast soul vibe Yeah the soul provider [Hook]