Soulja Slim – My Jacket Lyrics

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[Intro]
You know how I'm coming
You know exactly how I'm coming
(I'm telling you) It don't stop
Shit don't stop

[Hook x2]
My jacket consist of
Batteries on robberies, pistol charges, and murder
I know I'm the realest nigga you heard of besides 'Pac
Got niggas screaming Soulja from the street to the cell block


[Verse 1]
You bitch, you
Soulja Slim and his committee is coming to get you
My mag 90 bullets'll hit'chu and split'chu in half

That lil bitch boy staff won't last
Up against these motherfuckers that used to taking blood baths

I been smoking blunts with the devil, that's why my eyes red as the fuck
Now tell me, do I look like the type that'll be scared to bust?

Well, guess what? I'm screaming out murder me and I'm vest up
Chest up, test nuts, watch how I bless ya

You bitch made and I'm self-made, Magnolia, Calliope, Melph-made
I get through like a scalp blade and Kunta Kinte your left leg
I play surgeon
and I'll be splurging in Denalis, Navis, and big bourbons
Don't stunt, dog, whatever I said, I'll come wit'cha, I'll come, dog
I'mma get mine for the two Gs and I'mma take it 'for I say please
I fuck with twirkers not the twirkees, put it on will give a nigga herpes
So I stay back, I mean way back, y'all didn't notice how I say that?
Well, then motherfuck y'all hated waving on three Gs laid back


[Hook x2]

[Verse 2]
As one time we was click tight, what the fuck's going on?
I just come home, my shit ain't going right
Everybody branching off doing they thing
Some of 'em in the studio and some of 'em they slang

That's how it go, I know this rap shit ain't gone last forever
So I stash cheddar for hard times, flipping to make it better
I can take ten Gs and make twenty more ten Gs with that

I'm from the six 'co circle where all the hustlers at
You busters stacking from 'round me with all that junk claiming
In ninety-five I ran on Tara Lane and bust a brain and
Smoking blunts and snorting 'caine with my girl Big Ree
'Til I started spooking out, thought a nigga was trying to kill me
Nigga feel me


[Hook x2]

[Verse 3]
Picture lil daddy think he raw, must've forgot I'mma vet
Freshen up his memory, then get him set for the flow of death

I got a way to make all real niggas feel my pain
Any more player-hating ass fake niggas look at me strange

Reverse the game, fuck his head up, leave him in the middle of the street
Nigga shit ain't tight enough to G-for-G with me

Actually, you don't even supposed to be in my presence
So I'mma ask you like a man, shit, playboy, get to stepping
Now if you walk off with that look like you gon' get your weapon
And I'mma do you something dirty for all that stunting and repping

Now as the beat goes on, my flow don't stop
'Til I make your girl drop it like it's hot
I can run some shit that make you pussy pop, it don't matter if you real or not
Play my game and I'll cheat on ya, pull the rubber off and skeet on ya
Haters slanging that shit pussy for me on the Magnolia street corner
You's a ho nigga, you know I know nigga
And I put that on all my six 'co fa sho niggas
I'm X4L chief of the mag booyay
Fuck what them niggas doing tomorrow cause I'm doing my thing today
That's how I'm living, just game giving to make y'all recognize
I been doing this and I ain't never took off my camouflage

[Hook x3]

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