Hodgy, Ben Great - Soul lyrics

Spit game, spit game
Taught him how to spit game
I teach him how to spit game
They digesting, this shit flame
I taught him how to spit game yeah, yeah

I'm spitting game to my son
His name is Trenton
I told him it's not about a title, name
Or an emblem doing cut outs for my album
While I'm sitting with him
Individualism, you get the wisdom
And I ain't gon' lie
I'm fresh and I'm driving
Don't want to be bittersweet in the streets
Gotta get to the honey hive
On your mark set, up next when I die
Stick to your gun, gripping your nine
This only one, the only one, my only son
I call him my sunshine
Took time away from my work
It was worth the time
Haters sending subliminals knowing
I'm sublime
I spit it punchline after punchline
It's crunch time
Cause if it's not we get no lunchtime
Round of applause, you clap back
I busta rhymes
Read the fine print, and sign
I'm doing fucking fine
Tryna to stop me, I'ma press play
And then rewind
To remind me that Hodgy Daddy's one of a kind
And I'm not one to look into the past much
Look into the past and
There's nothing to find
I taught him how to spit game
I teach him how to spit game
They digesting, this shit flame
I taught him how to spit game nigga
I teach him how to spit game
They digesting, this shit flame, shit flame
Know what I'm saying

I remember being a kid, pediatric
Niggas talking shit, they never see me ad-lib
They distracted by a nigga's
Mind who is abstracted
I need a pen and pad then
Jotted down some rap shit
I'm watching my back but
Never looking backwards
I take the pen and get
The ink from black squids
I had a vision and my mind on tactics
My mind's a bag of tricks, my nigga magic
Never subtracting
Always added this mathematics
I take my good days with my baddest
This havoc madness
The sword is sharper than the tongue
And I slash your dragons
Producing raps like farmer's markets
I pass a radish
The cash, first I scan it then added taxes
You could bag it, organize it man, apparatus
Live a dream then have a dream
Imagine that shit tripping on

I remember I was back shy back in the C-IN
Damn, where should I begin
Started making jams, a seven year old kid
Learned to play the blues, I been hitting the
Then I went to school to study about the shit
Fell in love with music
Forever you be my fam
Thank you for your time
You know my mind expand
Put me on game to live, love, and chance it
God got the answers
I still be having questions
How long it's gon' take for me
To finally be an asset
How long it's gon' be before
These records turn to smashes
I don't need the hype
I just with the classics
Back when music was really bout the passion
Keep your private jet
I'm just tryna drive the Atlas
Y'all could see the world through
A bird's eye view
I want to travel through the trenches
Keep it gutta and true
Cause when you make it to the top
They start obstructing your view
And then they act like the forget
When they was fucking with you
But that made me learn a lot
It ain't nothing to
So I be pushing through the block
I'm pulling up on you, nigga