"Old Soul" lyrics - HAVOC

[Verse 1: Havoc]
Fuck fire, nigga, I am the light
Front on me, somebody gon' be dyin' tonight
The sideways talkin', catch you on the sidewalk
Walkin' to hit you with that iron from Mike
Never pick sweet guns, grab riches and run
Bag bitches for fun, that shit never get old
Since a youngin' had an old soul sneakin' sips of Mommy Old Gold
We was built on the low, graduated to the Hennessy
Too much of that shit will have everybody lookin' like the enemy
Fuck dodgeball, we was tryna dodge felonies
Ever was a cure, then hip-hop was the remedy
Remember me? Remember P?
Had 'em shook representin' from QB
Back when 'Pone-N-Noreaga was war reportin'
Nas was Illmatic, we was all just startin'
And y'all wasn't important, matter of fact you forfeit, nigga count your losses
Goin' against the grain, got nothing to gain
Manufacture the pain that your clique felt at funerals, all y'all removable
Brains on the floor like pigeon shit in New York
Clowns couldn't take it, had 'em packin' up them U-Hauls
Murder Queens shit, niggas be snitchin' and singin'
So now we got to make 'em remix
What the fuck he say? We be right back
Nigga want smoke? All good, let me light that
Show you how to strike a match, project niggas strike back
Do it in a day or we can hit you with a night cap
Years in the field done grow a nigga's thick skin
And laughin' at the gossip comin' out of grown men
Pretend for them hoes but not over here
Shit'll get your motherfuckin' head blown clear

[Verse 2: Ras Kass]
Grew up in them Eastside trenches
Lot of barbed wire fences, lot of dark skin bitches (Watts up!)
Watts to Carson turnin' young boys savage
'Cause PatchWerks Atlanta was the patch of the cabbage
New kid in the Blood hood feudal
Kept my Cortez neutral, eighth grade with the, you know
Snuck the.38 revolver in my locker for the bullies
Barracudas, almost became the first school shooter
I'm not a killer but don't push me
I'm a SAG member, I'm a smart nigga with a bad temper
My baby face growin' gray whiskers
But if you don't get older every year just means you dead already, bitch nigga
Your baby mom's a chicken and her motherfuckin' mom a bigger bird, that make your son a turducken
No stove top stuffing, rappers got beaks fallin' out they teeth from cocksuckin'
The streets don't love nothing
But niggas is hardheaded, concrete concussions
With 16 going on 30, heard me?
Platters of the dope just to come home early

[Verse 3: RJ Payne]
Yeah! Straight out of Southwest Philly, made it a different way
Them white boys was chasin' us home, labeled it Nigga Day
That all stopped when we turned grown and catered to trigger play
Tradin' a chick a day, gettin' faded, hate was the giveaway
I'm talkin' revealin' the awkwardest feelings
I had to fight to walk in the building in Morton and Tilden
We had to go to war with the villains, unfortunate killings
Resorted to dealing, just doin' dirt was sort of fulfilling
Bad temper from the loss of my mother, I don't know how to cope
Cloud of smoke, boxes of Dutches, brother was loud and broke
To fight the power, niggas was pumpin' that white powder coke
A bunch of youngins writin' for hours, we gave the cowards hope
The streets gave me recognition as a rider
Look at my life as the definition of survivor
The young boys that never listen to they fathers
That almost went to prison with the robbers
Real talk! I had to pray through my fears
No matter what a nigga still made a way through the years
Rollin' up back to back and take away the despair
I've been thankin' God I got to see this gray in my beard
It's Payne!