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almost 9 years ago
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Lyrics of Music for My Soul by Freestyle Project
Unexpected like a mixtape, catch you at′cho crib if you reading this its too late.
hmm...
point a choppa' at nigga.now he running like a track race.
Hmm...
Catch a nigga while he waiting on his dinner cut his head off leave his ass with a full plate.
Hmm.
Nigga talking shit put the metal to his mouth now i call his ass brace face.
Hmm .
& yo b*tch up for grabs like a sweepstake imma eat her ass like a cheesecake.
Hmm.
Now we back to my place. Bust on her face with my nut like its toothpaste.
Hmm.
Straight up at his crib like it′s home alone Mac up to his face you would'a think he had some lipstick on.
Hmm.
Price on his head
Hella ice on a sled made a nigga freeze up like frozone.
Hmm.
Put the chrome to a nigga dome. now his ass stuck like he need a couple chromosomes.
Hmm.
Im at'cho do′ like a ding dooong, i′a serve ya like ping pong.
Hmm.
And yo b*tch say my name like im Mike Jones. imma eat her ass like some neckbones.
Hmm.
Choppa' ring like a telephone, shoot em in his stomach you′a think a nigga belly gone.
Hmm.
Bitches say i rap like a sing-a-long . & they got it playing on they phone like a ringtone.
Hmm.
Big D*ck King Kong. Took her to the crib and i put the while team on.
Hmm.
i just got some cash on the flip shit bought yo bitch some time so she playing for the patriots.
Hmm.
Always first, never second. imma god. in the heavens when i die. imma legend on my drake shit.
Hmm.
Pull up on your block wit'a banana clip, if a nigga lacking imma turn into banana split.
Hmm.
I ch-ch-ch-chop shit body up in pieces pick it up with some chopsticks.
Hmm.
Pull up to the scene with a fat bitch and you know im fenna eat her ass like some catfish.
Hmm...
I pull up like scrrrr— peep out the window then i have to pop shit.
Hmm.
like herbo we kill shit. we gonna fuck around and crack yo bitch like a base hit.
Hmm.
i can turn your bitch to my bitch. shawty outta hand? fuck around and ray rice shit.
Channel 9 pronounced him dead. laid him under bodies like a mattress on a bed.
if a nigga try to run shoot him in his side make him do the stanky leg
Hmm.
if you lacking you dead face shots push ya eyeballs back to your head.
Hmm.
Niggas think it′s sweet till his blood shed
Now he not responding to nobody like his phone dead
Hmmmm...
I ain't even going for his head
Chest shots
Leaving like he standing for the pledge
Hmmmm...
Got a bad bitch layin′ in my bed
Watching Sponge Bob while she gives me fantastic head
Hmmmm...
Got your girl in the back seat
Sweating like an athlete
Now she on top like a bunk bed
Hmmmm...
Guns pointed at his head
Call his ass Ebola
'how a pussy nigga spread
Hmmmmmmmmm...
Four niggas got the whole world doing it
Got niggas teed up like a body on a crucifix
Hmmmm...
Me and my squad we up in this bitch
Nigga talking shit we act a fool like Ludacris
Hmmmm...
With your bitch making movie clips
Slide in her crib eat her ass like tuna fish
I come through shooting shit
Dropping bodies have a U-haul come and move his shit
Hmmmm...
Shooters acting crazy like some lunatics
Uzi spit
Fill a nigga up had him do a split
Who is this?
Nigga we not new to this
True to this
Passing hoes to my bros
We be ally ooping shit
Hmmmmmmmm...
Ya know how we coming man...
We be running, man to the money man...
Turn up
Turn up
These niggas lame asfff
Turn up
Turn up
GANGG!
What was that?
Take that shit out
Take that shit out
Writer(s): Franz Merwald
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Free Styling
Album • 2005 • 12 tracks
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🇮🇹 Made with love & passion in Italy 🌎 Enjoyed everywhere