Lyrics OLD SOUL (feat. G Herbo) - G Herbo , 2KBABY
Yeah,
yeah
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah
(Romeo
IV)
Yeah,
yeah
Big
Glock
four-oh,
yeah
Ridin'
in
a
four
door,
yeah
We
was
servin'
low-low,
yeah
Come
get
it
for
the
low-low,
yeah
Never
cuff
a
ho-ho,
yeah
Drive
it
off
like
oh-ho,
yeah
Take
it
to
they
front
door,
yeah
Never
talk
to
po-po
Man,
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
I'm
sorry
that
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
But
we
only
totin'
on
four-fours
And
I'm
never
breaking
the
bro
code
Do
this
shit
all
for
my
big
bro,
yeah
I'm
sorry
that
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
Like,
can
I
get
a
minute?
Let
a
nigga
finish
I'm
too
deep
up
in
it,
uh
They
hate
how
I'm
winnin',
sorry
I
been
sinnin'
They
say
I'm
forgiven,
uh
Mad
that
I
can't
flip
it,
I
put
up
them
digits
Told
'em
go
and
get
it,
uh
Find
'em
out
here
spinnin',
man
they
got
precision
I
know
they
ain't
missing,
uh
Tryna
please
my
mama,
stackin'
up
these
commas
I'm
just
like
my
papa,
uh
I
ain't
with
the
drama,
call
me
the
Don
Dada
I
move
like
Obama,
uh
Plus
I
keep
a
llama
and
I
love
the
choppas
Bitch
I'm
like
Mufasa,
uh
Hotter
than
a
sauna,
name
a
rapper
hotter
I'ma
say
he
not
a,
uh
I'm,
I'm
in
love
with
Louis,
I'm
in
love
with
Gucci
She
in
love
with
Prada,
uh
He
say
he
gon'
shoot
me,
bitch,
my
life
a
movie
I
get
that
a
lotta
This
clip
hold
a
hundred
anacondas,
stick
it
in
the
choppa
Show
you
who's
a
shotta,
bitch,
pick
up
your
partner
Nigga
now
I
got
her,
you
can't
say
de
nada
Big
Glock
four-oh,
yeah
Ridin'
in
a
four
door,
yeah
We
was
servin'
low-low,
yeah
Come
get
it
for
the
low-low,
yeah
Never
cuff
a
ho-ho,
yeah
Drive
it
off
like
oh-ho,
yeah
Take
it
to
they
front
door,
yeah
Never
talk
to
po-po
Man,
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
I'm
sorry
that
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
But
we
only
totin'
on
four-fours
And
I'm
never
breaking
the
bro
code
Do
this
shit
all
for
my
big
bro,
yeah
I'm
from
that
block
where
they
rob
and
they
kill
Young
nigga
starvin'
and
mobbin'
for
real
Way
before
rap
it
was
Glocks
in
the
field
Talkin'
like
that
'cause
he
probably
for
real
I
was
front
lines,
still
will
when
it
get
real
Couldn't
be
a
kid,
now
I'm
grown,
got
a
big
wheel
Slid
on
niggas,
better
ask
how
the
Glick
feel
Only
Thursday,
we
done
been
on
six
drills
For
real,
lit
with
no
deal
Still
in
this
bitch
while
my
niggas
on
pills
All
of
this
ice
in
this
bitch,
I'm
on
chill
Can't
do
no
rap
nigga
shit,
get
no
grill
Can't
be
on
rap
niggas
dick
I
want
mills
I
really
slept
in
the
trap
with
no
meals
I
really
slept
in
the
trap
with
them
steels
Four
seven
kick
in
the
door,
gotta
peel
(skrrt,
nyoom)
I'm
still
that
nigga
This
like
my
eighth
year
in
rap
and
I'm
richer
I
still
a
bust
down
and
packs
with
my
niggas
I
just
might
walk
in
the
trap
with
a
Richard
(Mille)
I
close
my
eyes,
I
see
cap,
I
see
crystals
Open
my
eyes,
I
see
Kobe,
see
pistols
Fuck
it,
I'm
gon'
get
some
more
of
these
dividends
I
slept
in
county,
can't
go
in
that
bitch
again
(never)
Crushes
and
felons
Juice
make
me
want
put
a
four
in
the
bitch
again
Told
you
I
never
look
back,
you
weren't
listening
Now
I'm
so
fried,
we
gotta
keep
distances
Two
niggas
bitches,
don't
tell
me
what
bitches
did
I
don't
do
internet,
I'm
really
in
this
shit
Act
like
you
into
that,
nah,
you
ain't
innocent
(bop,
bop)
It
ain't
no
witnesses
Big
Glock
four-oh,
yeah
Ridin'
in
a
four
door,
yeah
We
was
servin'
low-low,
yeah
Come
get
it
for
the
low-low,
yeah
Never
cuff
a
ho-ho,
yeah
Drive
it
off
like
oh-ho,
yeah
Take
it
to
they
front
door,
yeah
Never
talk
to
po-po
Man,
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
I'm
sorry
that
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
But
we
only
totin'
on
four-fours
And
I'm
never
breaking
the
bro
code
Do
this
shit
all
for
my
big
bro,
yeah
I'm
sorry
that
I
got
a
old
soul,
yeah
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