Mozzy, Mistah F.A.B., OMB Peezy - For the Soul lyrics

Timothy Patterson

LeParis Kentae Dade Sr.

[Mozzy, Mistah F.A.B., OMB Peezy - For the Soul lyrics]

Rest in peace to the track you already know
That's my nigga for live
Fella Fella, what's happenin'? Uh yeah, TT3
Thug Tears 3, uh

My lil' nigga gotta pull twenty
He on his fifth hearse
They ain't seen a nigga get
Stabbed on the fifth tear
Lil' mama only 20 years old
She on her fifth kid
Brodie said he start sellin' stones
So he could switch gear
Ain't no pork on my fork nowadays
But I was raised off bologna sandwiches
And Spam, that shit was scandalous
Mama used to get so high
She started panicking
When mama died, I went through depression
On some manic shit
When you don't got no mama and
Dad, it's hard to manage, kid
Even Stretch told the world it's
Hard to manage him flashin' on my bitch
She swear I need anger management
Ice City, yeah, North Pole
I'm from where Santa live
It's a red apple bottom on
These yellow banana kicks
All my niggas got Dracos and
Kaydas with the banana clips
Power life goals
Plus I'm tryna flip a Phantom whip
Dope like the J-A-C-K-A, and I'm rich

First off
Salute high to all my niggas that died
Claim you a shooter, okay shooter
Why you niggas ain't slide?
I wanna send a shout out
To all my brodies inside
Locked down in the prison
Keep your head up high
To all my niggas sheddin' tears as
They sit on they bunk
Playin' this on the tier for
The killers and punks
If you blessed with a date
See you when you get home if you got life
This is thug therapy for the soul

Yeah, I know when the love real
I can feel it feel my nigga's spirit
Shit got me in my feelings
Pull up to the churches just
To check on Auntie Phyllis
She love the fact her nephew really
Went and got that million
Bokey on me, we don't post about it
We conceal it
Carry port is stolen, but I bought it
I ain't steal it
Get familiar with the killers
While it's Gucci
That's when that bag double back back, bitch
I'm bougie
When that bag double back back, bitch
You bootsey i need a pair of bardi's
We gon' thirty up the ruccis
Filipin' Barbie, pull a 'Rari out her booty
Calamari and sushi for the
Shooters who on duty
'member all them trips we was
Takin' in Auntie hoopty?
Hit the pen, turned the ski mask in
And snatched the coofy
I miss you, real nigga
The streets'll never forget you
My brother brother
PayPal number's never an issue
That's word to mine

First off
Salute high to all my niggas that died
Claim you a shooter, okay shooter
Why you niggas ain't slide?
I wanna send a shout out
To all my brodies inside
Locked down in the prison
Keep your head up high
To all my niggas sheddin' tears as
They sit on they bunk
Playin' this on the tier for
The killers and punks
If you blessed with a date
See you when you get home if you got life
This is thug therapy for the soul

I'm starvin', ain't had a meal in a minute
Fifth time lookin' in 'frigerator
Ain't nothin' in it
Still wore my clothes from yesterday
Then I cocked back my semi
And hit the streets, I need to eat
So you can get robbed for a penny
I just can't get right
A couple charges that's pending
But I'd be damned if I let them
Crackers stop me from gettin' it
But before I go out sad
I'd rather be sittin'
At least I'll get three meals if
I'm locked in a prison
I told myself I'd be done
Robbin' on my last lick
But I can't ask for help 'cause
People be wantin' they ass kicked
Grippin' that plastic 'cause right now
I'm on my dick
Even if I get a couple dollars, it's a hit
At night I pray to God every
One of my niggas make it
Ridin' with that iron, 'cause my shine
They wanna take it really from the mud
This shit too real for me to fake it
Really from the mud, this shit too
Real for me to fake it, peezy

First off
Salute high to all my niggas that died
Claim you a shooter, okay shooter
Why you niggas ain't slide?
I wanna send a shout out
To all my brodies inside
Locked down in the prison
Keep your head up high
To all my niggas sheddin' tears as
They sit on they bunk
Playin' this on the tier for
The killers and punks
If you blessed with a date
See you when you get home if you got life
This is thug therapy for the soul

Yeah, they'll never get over me
Hear the voice and you know it's me
At the function, you know we deep
She'll never say no to me
Thug Tears my diary, but I'll never be Jodeci
I make the thugs shed tears
Off this project poetry
These niggas sayin' that they thugs
But they softer than flowetry
See I'm a player, not a thug
But the thugs adore G
This ain't Georgie Porgie, nah man
This a different tune daddy shootin' hot
The fire from the lighter bit the spoon
How I'm supposed to survive winter
When clothes meant for June?
Mama gettin' high so she sent
Me to a different room
Mama on Whitney, daddy on Bobby
I wasn't 'posed to make it
My story was meant to doom
But this rose from the concrete
Had a different bloom
Blast off like a rocket until I hit the moon
Never take a bop to the house
We can get a room
I'm not them, I'm him we some different dudes

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