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letra de soul savior - mr. groove

yeah
gr
un hun, unh
i’m back

i’m standing at the apex, the predetermined spot for the greatest
as i stake claim as the best
the illest lyricist i really spit flame
slaughter in the house of pain i accept all the blame
i suspect that you came to hear the god bless the game
so go ahead, bow your head and pray in my name
my oratory sk!lls are unmatched, this is deeper than rap
i am the truest while the rest skew the facts
i grind to the max, i speed to the finish line
on my victory lap that orange flag’s held high
so shower me with accolades and gold bottles
i keep a clear view through gucci framed goggles
and they follow my lead they follow my shine
they follow the design scribed from my criminal mind
you have all been criminalized
sentenced to a lifetime addiction of the dope lines i supply

hook:
it’s my time to shine
see the lone star burn bright bring sight to the blind
it’s my lane to speed
moving so fast through the streets the grand prix should endorse me
it’s my game to win
see me with my arms raised high i am the champion
i spend my life living major
so when your world is in danger, come here let me save ya
this is phase two of the groovement
street knowledge passed from the scholar to the student
trying to best the master is foolish but stupid is as stupid does
now they watch the tool spit till they lights get unplugged
s-x, drugs, money and murder the main ingredients
for the recipe that i serve ya
i treat the booth like a gun range i am the burner bout to spark it
my phonics the ammo hit dead center the target
dome call i be on ya’ll hat i split ya’ll wig
your majesty is back believe i is believe i spit
that hottness, hot sh-t bar for bar
i treat the beat just like we beefin’ i declare war
then drop boms on civility death is the penality paid
for bringing all that wack sh-t to the game
i’m sayin’, i’m slayin, i’m stayin’ on the top
lookin’ down on all you n-ggas hatin’ watch me take a squat now

keep my eyes locked on the prize tunnel vision sight
pistols flame underneath the weight of street life
i stand strong while others buckel underneath the strain
unable to stomach the pain while i shoulder the entire game
i sustain excellence my body of work
is a measure of the verses i murk
so get the body bags, toe tags and coroner’s tape
another rhyme scene created by my serial traits (unh)
i rock out n-gga like headbangers ball
with the four fith smith givin’ applause
this sh-t is 2pacalypse mixed with biggie smalls
ambitions as a rider life after death calls
everytime that i bust i leave the listener concussed
and the airways stay underneath the mercy of, the mad bomber
red tail squadron, banekker clockin’
hov lane so their ain’t no stoppin’

- mr groove

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