SONATA (HOLD MY SOUL) Lyrics

Hold my soul

Got bills to pay so what's my percentage

I got things to say, so what's in my message

Got shit to play, got dick to lay

Something to be, so let's start beginning

I got bills to pay so what's my percentage

I got things to say, so what's in my message

Got shit to play, got dick to lay

Something to be, so let's start beginning

Uh, the methodology is strange

Sell the stars to grow the farm, you could call me Danny Ainge

Whip my white into merengue

I'm just tryna test my range

I'm just tryna make some change

I'm just tryna get some chains

Every time I grip the mic it's like I grow fur

Sick fuckin' bitch, talkin' bout the mange cur

I been with the shits, yeah I'm cookin' flavor

Put some shit into the pot, make some shit to savor

It's like I'm damned if I do, then I'm damned if I don't

I take a week off of work, I just been chillin' at home cuz'

I been buildin' my rome and meditatin' my dome

And medicatin' the angst then playing games on my phone

And replicatin' the flow

Tryna shed every hold

You got the strings on my heart held me down with capos

All it is is tough days and good times rollin'

Put the damper on my spirit but you'll never take my soul, no

Bills to pay so what's my percentage

I got things to say, so what's in my message

Got shit to play, got dick to lay

Something to be, so let's start beginning

I got bills to pay so what's my percentage

I got things to say, so what's in my message

Got shit to play, got dick to lay

Something to be, so let's start beginning

Each to their own as I get into my zone

With a baggy in my pocket and a dime in my dome

Read the shit from my tome

We was growing up stoned

With his head full of braids and his pocket shirt on

And the microphones on fling shit from my lips

If you can't feel it take a couple of sips

I got the hippy shit too

Always got it on me

With my sack full of caps on my wack shit homie

So we down the shots that gon' hit the spot

We got the shit that'll make your dome split

With the foot on the pedal, I ain't talkin' wah wah

Yeah I like all that spit, hey baby don't quit

I got a sold out show, yeah

Now the whole blocks hot

Crowd bops in half time, ya'll don't know shit

Just wanna get real rich so I can start to piss rocks

Fresh prince my smith shit, you a fuckin' Chris Rock uh