Soldier’s Song

[Styles P] Yo Poobs! Ghost.. Poobs turn me up my nigga Time is money, Double R D-Block, shit's real Nigga it's the Ghost off the M.B I breathe off of liquor and weed and choose to be when the men sleep I don't even pray with my eyes closed Soulless screamin I know the demons, hide where the lies go Try to fall back, off the lyrics with mysticism Can't express myself, wild out and get shipped to prison Got a lot of shit I could say But it's kinda Ludacris that make niggas get out the way Kinda selfish if I make niggas get out and spray Leave you helpless and the only thing you do is you pray, nigga Shit is God-made, or man-made and machine-made I don't want beef I want money, that's the green way The pride overpower the brain I won't die like a coward, muh'fucker I'm vain I'm a gangsta in the car in the dirt and the chains I've been hurt and in pain, and stood tall in this urban terrain But a man must admit to his faults, I know mine I'm the type that always wanna revolt (yeah) If I can't kill a nigga then I want an assault (yeah) Shit hard, just listen to the bars shit's makin ya {?} Some niggas shiver and listen, no lie Close your eyes it's the bigger division Life or death nowadays is a nigga's decision, here's your jewels When you make yours, just make sure you make it on the move Nigga Yeah, Ghost, time is money Shit's not a game I ain't fuckin around Yo Poobs we out {Mario?}