Home 🎬 Bollywood 🎡 Pakistani 🎀 English Pop

Soul Thang (feat. DRIS, Nems, Iceman Bronxman, Supreme-Intelligence, Sun God, Pillz, Reek Da Villian)

πŸ‘€ Ghostface Killah β€’ 🎼 Supreme Clientele 2 β€’ ⏱️ 3:12
🎡 3624 characters
⏱️ 3:12 duration
πŸ†” ID: 25558702

πŸ“œ Lyrics

Yeah, 'bout to tie my sneakers on this shit
Yo, Wiggs, what up? (Yeah, uh)
We about to eat this, word (fire, nigga)
Y'all know what it is, nigga
Need a hundred candles on this cake (uh)
Back in this bitch
Who got matches? (Uh-huh, let's go)
Who got matches? (Uh)
This is Staten Island shit, uh, what? (Great clientele)

Batman capes, Egyptian sounds on the scale
Medallions smaller than Frosted Flakes, trap house
Baggin' up nothin' but halves and eighths
Powder, with razor cuts on a porcelain plate
Fentanyl, 60 CCs be the death of y'all
Burn like ethanol, fiendin' for Omeprazole
Plug pulled up, patted him down and took his weapon off
Get behind him, aimed at his man and let seven off

Spark money, gold piranhas, shark money
Bust him open, shoved all the work right in the shark tummy
Arabian Arabs say, "Fuck the terrorists"
You want a free yacht, I'll make sure it docked in Paris
End of millennium, slanted face killers are Sicilian
Throwin' nothin' but bald heads, wallowing Gilliam
Automatic airborne whips take off wheeliein'
Melt niggas, watch they soul rise like helium

Yeah, rocket baby pops in the mouth and now his teeth gone
Bitch, how the fuck is you bougie? You drive a Nissan (get outta here)
Sittin' at the last supper table, I get my feast on
Big boss, pickin' out diamonds to put my piece on
Your shit ain't hittin' like this, so don't even bother (nah)
Shit, I blew shorty back out, went home and did Fajr (yup)
Twenties for the kids (ooh), a hundred to the barber (ahh)
I see your whole style in my shit, call me your father (daddy)

Dons of all Dons (yup), all my bitches love to fuck
Mike Tyson hooks, buster duck, uppercut
All these fuckin' diamonds in my chain, that's a clusterfuck
You and your mans bike nuts to butt, what the fuck?
Keep runnin' your mouth, I might fuck you up (brrah)
I get ignorant quick, but I'm a genius (yup)
Up North, they ate your food, now you bulimic
I seen it, like a 27-inch TV (uh)

You work what you got, I want it all, you gon' serve it or not?
My man staged the whole shit, then we circled the block
We sold it back in fishscales like we work at the dock
I told my bitch to stop playin' 'cause she twerk with the pot
I been pinnin' 'til my GPS circle my opps
I shoot around 'til every shell come out the box
We top tier, see, a lot of niggas fell when they dropped
Spur of the moment, I'll probably Wimbey on your block

They used to call me fourth quarter every time they need the pickup
Fiend hit it once, see the vomit, hear the hiccups
Everybody runnin' through the crevices and Chris us
Then you see me follow behind like it's a stickup
I hop out gettin' money, slightly trimmed on the rugby
Watch me spin through the dougie, cash rules, I'm gettin' money
Ain't a damn thing funny
To the point 'til I clear it out, fuck around, leave everything fuzzy

Bear skin rug by the fireplace
Nice auntie, Pam Grier body with the Mya face
Nigga, the K hold a ladder like the fire escape
My man had a good year movin' birds out the tire place
We the Elohim, the Gods of the flows, nigga
That MedellΓ­n'll knock the smell out your nose, nigga
I promise you, try to run down on the pros, nigga
You'll come face-to-face with defeat like, "What are those, nigga?"

I'm the type to cook a bird in a crockpot
My supreme clientele had the fiends doin' pop locks
Feds rush the crib, mama love hit the top lock (mama)
My guns go boom-boom, never pop-pop
I'm a mastermind, the master's mind, flash an eye
The atmosphere shine, you asinine, he dead man, casket time
Nigga, it's Huey, Rick, Newton, nigga, Philly, Seal
Fuck the subs, say how you really feel if it's really real

⏱️ Synced Lyrics

[00:00.19] Yeah, 'bout to tie my sneakers on this shit
[00:03.99] Yo, Wiggs, what up? (Yeah, uh)
[00:05.01] We about to eat this, word (fire, nigga)
[00:08.90] Y'all know what it is, nigga
[00:10.16] Need a hundred candles on this cake (uh)
[00:12.03] Back in this bitch
[00:13.46] Who got matches? (Uh-huh, let's go)
[00:15.52] Who got matches? (Uh)
[00:18.55] This is Staten Island shit, uh, what? (Great clientele)
[00:21.76] Batman capes, Egyptian sounds on the scale
[00:24.28] Medallions smaller than Frosted Flakes, trap house
[00:27.08] Baggin' up nothin' but halves and eighths
[00:28.87] Powder, with razor cuts on a porcelain plate
[00:31.38] Fentanyl, 60 CCs be the death of y'all
[00:34.47] Burn like ethanol, fiendin' for Omeprazole
[00:37.12] Plug pulled up, patted him down and took his weapon off
[00:39.71] Get behind him, aimed at his man and let seven off
[00:42.56] Spark money, gold piranhas, shark money
[00:45.04] Bust him open, shoved all the work right in the shark tummy
[00:47.68] Arabian Arabs say, "Fuck the terrorists"
[00:49.95] You want a free yacht, I'll make sure it docked in Paris
[00:52.60] End of millennium, slanted face killers are Sicilian
[00:55.32] Throwin' nothin' but bald heads, wallowing Gilliam
[00:58.49] Automatic airborne whips take off wheeliein'
[01:01.14] Melt niggas, watch they soul rise like helium
[01:03.49] Yeah, rocket baby pops in the mouth and now his teeth gone
[01:06.45] Bitch, how the fuck is you bougie? You drive a Nissan (get outta here)
[01:09.04] Sittin' at the last supper table, I get my feast on
[01:11.68] Big boss, pickin' out diamonds to put my piece on
[01:14.07] Your shit ain't hittin' like this, so don't even bother (nah)
[01:16.75] Shit, I blew shorty back out, went home and did Fajr (yup)
[01:19.47] Twenties for the kids (ooh), a hundred to the barber (ahh)
[01:22.26] I see your whole style in my shit, call me your father (daddy)
[01:24.96] Dons of all Dons (yup), all my bitches love to fuck
[01:27.67] Mike Tyson hooks, buster duck, uppercut
[01:30.22] All these fuckin' diamonds in my chain, that's a clusterfuck
[01:32.90] You and your mans bike nuts to butt, what the fuck?
[01:36.04] Keep runnin' your mouth, I might fuck you up (brrah)
[01:38.55] I get ignorant quick, but I'm a genius (yup)
[01:40.95] Up North, they ate your food, now you bulimic
[01:43.49] I seen it, like a 27-inch TV (uh)
[01:45.43] You work what you got, I want it all, you gon' serve it or not?
[01:48.32] My man staged the whole shit, then we circled the block
[01:50.85] We sold it back in fishscales like we work at the dock
[01:53.60] I told my bitch to stop playin' 'cause she twerk with the pot
[01:56.39] I been pinnin' 'til my GPS circle my opps
[01:59.08] I shoot around 'til every shell come out the box
[02:01.43] We top tier, see, a lot of niggas fell when they dropped
[02:04.23] Spur of the moment, I'll probably Wimbey on your block
[02:07.02] They used to call me fourth quarter every time they need the pickup
[02:10.22] Fiend hit it once, see the vomit, hear the hiccups
[02:12.69] Everybody runnin' through the crevices and Chris us
[02:15.21] Then you see me follow behind like it's a stickup
[02:17.73] I hop out gettin' money, slightly trimmed on the rugby
[02:20.38] Watch me spin through the dougie, cash rules, I'm gettin' money
[02:23.06] Ain't a damn thing funny
[02:24.93] To the point 'til I clear it out, fuck around, leave everything fuzzy
[02:29.32] Bear skin rug by the fireplace
[02:31.48] Nice auntie, Pam Grier body with the Mya face
[02:34.30] Nigga, the K hold a ladder like the fire escape
[02:36.31] My man had a good year movin' birds out the tire place
[02:39.54] We the Elohim, the Gods of the flows, nigga
[02:41.96] That MedellΓ­n'll knock the smell out your nose, nigga
[02:44.67] I promise you, try to run down on the pros, nigga
[02:47.10] You'll come face-to-face with defeat like, "What are those, nigga?"
[02:50.33] I'm the type to cook a bird in a crockpot
[02:52.28] My supreme clientele had the fiends doin' pop locks
[02:54.99] Feds rush the crib, mama love hit the top lock (mama)
[02:57.57] My guns go boom-boom, never pop-pop
[03:00.84] I'm a mastermind, the master's mind, flash an eye
[03:02.84] The atmosphere shine, you asinine, he dead man, casket time
[03:05.84] Nigga, it's Huey, Rick, Newton, nigga, Philly, Seal
[03:08.37] Fuck the subs, say how you really feel if it's really real
[03:11.06]

⭐ Rate These Lyrics

β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†
Average: 0.0/5 β€’ 0 ratings