Soul Provider - Blu & Exile

Yeah… somethin' classic… in the makin'…

Feels good don’t it?

Exile… the one and only… heh…

The young homie…

You going up against a nigga with a whole lotta soul partner

The show shocker, rock ya soul when I flow partner

The dime studded Marauder

Knocking the globe outta alignment when I’m rhyming

Soul shining like I’m gold mining

So don’t bother competing

His own Father don’t know how to defeat him

He like a robot, knocking the cement into your soul rock

Leaving the hoes jocked, Now you can see, concede it

Cause his speaking leave your dome cocked

The soul provider Flow live, shit is so hot

Do not touch

Brought the real, and let the whole block crush

Now young bucks call him ill from the still (It's Blu)

Even though the name been the same since I came

Ain’t a damn thing changed but the skills

I still gotta blow spots up

Just to show you that you won’t stop us

And never will, it’s the so cal SoCal resident, I represent

My locals, Blu’s style is heaven sent, with Exile for President

The showstopper, rocks spots and flow proper

No album outta fat beats, but still know how to pack seats

With no problems, spitting my soul outta rap sheets

That I been giving Cali that sharpest breeze and khakis

That’s me.

The B-L-U no E;

I’m

On the block posing like an O. G

California sun, soaking gope and Old E

Token to my tongue, smoking like my gun blowing heat

Out the end of it, speak kind of venomous

Walk similar to how I talk, dawg I’m limitless

'Cause my ten toes are taking any place my mind states

Deep thinker, ain’t sink a ship with my mindstate

Plus, I puff this and I’m three feet, sky high

Rising like the drum break, rhyming like I rhyme great

Take you whack rhymes out like a blind date

Fuck kindness, kill 'em with knowledge until they mind aches

And I stay killing the stage

Cutting line short like your phone bills ain’t paid

'Cause you’re cheapskates, the soul provider rocking week date

I’m letting off with anybody tryna steal my DJ

I flow krypton, knock your Superman off his feet with his kicks on

Niggas keep my shit on repeat, and no matter which song I get on

I shit on beats, pull out my dick and take a piss on trees

I’m raw dogging it, look, my rhyme lines flow sweeter than swine

So any mic that I find, I got the right to be hogging it

Talking shit, loud mouth, wild out, starting it

Alcoholic slaughtering my vocab department

So pardon if my talking is slurred, pants sagging

Hands grabbing on my nuts, clutch sparking my herb

Relaxed lingo, beef low, ghetto as Black bingo

Redefine the the line of rap singles

The soul provida', hold the mic and open fire

Drop my nuts, I give a fuck about a pro hire

The new Pete and C.L.

was Exile and B-L

We bang jeeps to break beats, blaze trees and females

You ain’t me

It’s the S-O, U-L pro-vide your mind, with a West Coast soul vibe

The soul provider