4 Souls

Intro:

This is how we goin do

We goin do this right

Word, word is bond

Know what Im sayin

This is la wid the track

Know what Im sayin

You know how we do

Word up, yo

Let dark pass no stunting

>from the real

Better get your 4 pound god

Lets proceed

Yo, what yo, yo

Verse 1: la

I run up on rap like boo smith on a hatchback

Put my patch down cause a head crack

Im trapped, in a hole filled with guns and drugs

Three-headers, nothing better 5% and thugs

Style tight like o.j. gloves

Niggas state to state take a bug

cause I burn rich niggaz who will hide slugs

Its the coke that got me caught,

In this dead train of thought

We stepped the coroner theft law from the bronx new york

Holding a pitchfork for cream

Eyes on high beam, 13

Cooking up coke, selling as dope fiends

Now realise my anger as I craft my chamber

With no parental vision made a fucking head-banger

Whos in change a, you dis this judge you get finished

Disrespect darkman you get slapped with a guiness

Kid spin it, baby mcs Im just choking em

My shit hits the town like 300 pounds of opium

What, turbulence which is your first defence

Scripts stay scrapped to kill an action-packed defence

Cocoa plants, I payed the cost in a loft

Now lyrically candy topping niggas and buttered soft

As the holocaust

Verse 2: shotti

Prepare for the killin shield

Sight you lose to nightmares

Stan man and my desert ? ? ? 

Then I slip to the us, and then,

The battle thought you had me screw-finched hologrammed

You can stick it to death

Talk means you scot

Einstein dangerous mind

2 heads and 4 eyes

This man x,

Im known when Im off my shift

Scarf on my waist pull then Ill scorch your face

Im like a copy-cat killer

Born for strangling niggas

Then pull figures

Receive and rob the spot like dillinger

Settle cap like ? ? ? 

Im saber-toothed coming at you

Forfeit the minds cant win wit no .22

Get nuke and henny rock 80 proof

In the hood, never sipping while Im drinking my jewel

Dance to my ritual, lower you into my seance

Bitch wearing avon

Missing me ? on the rap song? 

Ill buck, you frontin wit out that gk bubbly stuff

Gang games for schools thats why your whole shit gets laced up

With the mic as my staff

I inscribe my witchcraft with full blast

Buddah cut, shot these screw cats

Verse 3: la

When Im lifted

Rip shit up kid quick Im busted

On any demon puffing hizo cant be trusted

Lustic lyrical blunts be like mud

Darkman the king, lampin on my throne of blood

Lynch men, verbal henchmen, kickin your door in

Blastin, rip, flippin your shit, rippin your organs

Triple darkness, lies trap a constant rip juggler

Snake eyes dedicated undercover smuggler

As I cut you

I slice your brain right without the mic

Vivid literature pictures shine like four nine lights

Time in space, grab your head-bands, suffocate

Call me chester so I had to let

Them rappers I wake on fuck em break

I hold crack like your ass

Lick shots from the techs then jet through the wet grass

Bubble worth like a bass,

Darkman instancy, sniff canibus living

Part in the caribbean sea

Through your history the dark scenes will make you ears beam

Talking bout hitting rap then sit back and hit your weed

La can walk through walls stand straight up in fire

Look at your eyes look at my eyes pussy

And tell me whos higher

Darkman empire guard you now like a gun

Loading wid nine rich niggas and Im bound to be the tenth one

Verse 4: shotti

Read my jungle

Got the far eye see shot predator

Detonator blowin up city blocks

Wid a large watts

About six clocks

Thats high potent killers on each corner

Wid guns ready for smoking

Six sense indian head hancho

Yo my peso got royals that screw castro

Operation statement my technique will be an experiment

For my alliance I catch skins of ten lions

What you trying tasting this sawed off iron

Adjustable punk fashion came out your whole batch

My plan to wrap this town like saran

All I need is guns and a few good men

Shotti, stay like scarface wid a key to shoot somebody

Come get me, my fingers dipsy,

Whos coming whippy, Im a yippy

First enemy whos stealin filthy

Size em up break em down Im guilty

My sons is wit me

Shot like 150 watts and fistful like kung-fu plots

Wid my sing-sing shot

You form something that cant be stopped

Got a glock the fuck up your snot box wid a shot

What!

Outro:

Sing-sing

Knaw what I mean

La the darkman

Shot these fool faced keep your boots laced

Many many fakes and gun rules

M-a-d, wealthy

Killa bees