[Verse 1: Onyx the Birthstone Kid]
Now, just to blow this up like I intended
Straight from the Kausin' Much Damage will I send it
I recommend hittin just fittin just fine then throw it up
Vocals for locals, the whole nine, I'm blowin' up
The Birthstone Kid, I got it goin' on
Every time I throw it on, allied strength is what I'm growin' on
I kick styles like maybe this one or that one
Whichever which I bust, it's got to be a fat one
Like Walter Hudson, my rhymes is thick, son
So, when you pick one, man, I'm gonna lick one
God style, hard with no smile
'Cause I profile, for the ignorant child
And when I bust off, homeboy with no heso' I just bust at
Point blank range, y'all think I ain't livin' strange?
I got this soul thing caught up in a head swing
I'm on the mic with the Gods, and I'm, soulflexin'
[Verse 2: Subroc]
Straight from the flock with skills
Pizzazz your whole cipher Subroc builds, as is
As I jazz it up I grease your okey-dokey then
Yup, I do the hokey pokey let my soul bend up
Grown to be 65 inch
Short to swing, this hood sport is the cinch
Indeed I rap, ghetto folk'll snatch your soul intact
Now, slap your head up, bob and catch stiff neck MC selekta
The addict to this funk thing
And it sticks to you dramatic like static cling, for granted
Laps for years, I avoid troubled traps
Help me out the hole, to the brother I'll give double daps
Cuttin' that old haps, to the straightening comb
Maybe, twine the knots, I'll have the nappy dome
Send me the home, crankin' with electric bass drag
Kick 'em big, but won't brag, I was hittin' into a rag
I don't slack, so won't you let it off? (Let it off!)
Can the MC selekta set it off? (Set it off!)
Suffer the {?} you can't, my style is ambiguous
Rockin' it 24/7, clock is broken tickless
Broke up yup I'm on, the uppity uppity note
I can rock styles that move, a party a party boat
With clout no doubt I gots to boom the boom
From Onyx my man, to Zev X my physical
Yes, I'm braggin like a wagon wheel I roll
I have my cake and eat it too, and lick the bowl
I'm soulflexin'
[Verse 3: Zev Love X]
Yo yo, can I get up on this? Get up on this?
Yo I'ma get on this, confusion, pure
I collect dust and rust colored coins
Trust rock a mic and must grip the loins
From a ton gun a big slug
As quickly, as I'm sickly, if sucks some of pig
Plug my mic in, discuss this tons of dust
That's been busted for a rust-like tint, {?}
Despicable, duck, more Scrooge than Rickle
No wins sucks, no ice cream, pickle sickle
Now check, check, check it out, I's no goody good
I wreck you're never luckin' out so get the Woody Woodpecker
Check when plaid slacks was a trademark, I made marks
Now back taxes always stay at max of stacks so
I'm a bad guy and I'll snuff with a noogie (boo!)
Some do slump punks but up jumps the Boogie Man
I got a natural coppertone, tan and plus
800 coats of gold in my glands
And one can on the wall, one can
If that can would, happen to fall lend out a hand, to snag it
Ill ain't nothin' spilled and be drippin' or leakin'
See on, the lip I'm speakin' and be steady seekin', some soulflexin'
[Outro: Zev Love X]
The God Zev X is soulflexin'
Yeah the MC selector was soulflexin'
And the Birthstone Kid is soulflexin'
And the Boogie Woogie men are soulflexin'
And the S.O.S. are soulflexin'
Yeah the God Ansaar is soulflexin'
My man {?} is soulflexin'
Haji, and Sadat X be flexin'
Alamo and Jamar be soulflexin'
My man Diego D be soulflexin'
The Gods from Long Beach be flexin'
Yeah the Gods from Now Rule be flexin'
Phife and Jarobi be flexin'
Q-Tip and Ali be flexin'
Posdnuos and Dove be cold flexin'
Maseo, Maseo be flexin'
Superman Clark Kent be soulflexin'
Richie Rich and 3rd Bass soulflexin'
The cracker cracker Crackerjacks be flexin'
And the L.O.N.S. be soulflexin'
And the H2O be soulflexin'
And {?} be soulflexin'
Stanley Winslow be soulflexin'
And the {?} be soulflexin'
And my man Geeby be soulflexin'
And the engineer Gamz be soulflexin'
And Dante is like the worst person
Yoooooooo, OUT
