"Soul Searchin'" lyrics - TECH N9NE
[Hook 2x]
For the emcees that we know that can't rhyme
Whether on tape, 12 inch, they flat-line
Either you rhyme for a livin', or livin' it for the rhyme
Check the hollow-point and cock back the Tec-9
[Verse 1: Tech N9ne]
I told y'all, deep in you froze with flows, La Cosa Nostra
Hand me your souls when I approach 'em
Coast to coast, toast to indulge ya
Makes me (*backwards talking*) little backwards exposure
The time is critical, divine spiritual
Bind rituals, people keepin' away from N9ne kickables
Heard he flips 'em, rips 'em
And when he does it may God be with ya, Deus Vobiscum
Rips from here to Quebec, I will wreck in the sec' I met you
Take off, you flex and get vexed in the ledger, so here's your best bet
Give your currency to me, how to be an emcee
Is mucho dinero, jockin' juice on mi huevos (lego)
[?] up against fruity pebbles
I go through the ghetto like heavy metal, pendejo
Flippin' my rapper, killer beats
You non-rapper kill a sour bits
Crowded like Roscoe's on Gower Street
Power speech, I straight devour leaf suckers
Like they stole from my mother on Christmas (Six plus six, lift us)
Flows urkin' to blow like Psycho Perkins
I chose workin', with spirits I'm soul searchin'
[Hook 2x]
For the emcees that we know that can't rhyme
Whether on tape, 12 inch, they flat-line
Either you rhyme for a livin' or livin' it for the rhyme
Check the hollow-point and cock back the Tec-9
[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
Domestic violence time, you cannot silence N9ne
Lyrical science, mine, backstabbin' emcees to the defiance line
Fuck fools, approve this, the dudes are clue-less
If you ain't with me then you're a true diss
Who likes futuristic Battlestar Galactica rubbish?
Haters discuss it, had the number because I bust it
Like [?], I know it stings, replacing the children
The changeling, I give 'em a brain wings
Sane dream, the invincible mainstream
Reign things, mental bacterial gangrene
B-boy 2000, we noise, we housin'
Grim display, blowin' the spot up like Tim McVeigh
Swim this way if you don't want my flow to drown ya, found ya
Down pound for pound, Killer Clown clowned ya
Sounds of trigger men, the hunter with the bigger tip
Surpass to your lyrics are igornant, I mean ignorant
The east trippin', the west trippin'
To me the best clippin' is Nina Midwest rippin' (The flippin' Mantronix)
Give the man chronic, I'm strippin' damn comics
And wrap soul snatchers, we keep the fans on it
[Hook 2x]
For the emcees that we know that can't rhyme
Whether on tape, 12 inch, they flat-line
Either you rhyme for a livin' or livin' it for the rhyme
Check the hollow-point and cock back the Tec-9
[Verse 3: Tech N9ne]
Who rock the party like this?
Face to face with fade ace of spades
Is the place, then pass the blunts with laced
Close your eyes tight, extractin' souls tonight
Hold the mic right, show 'em how you were told sho' to fight
Told to write this with hypeness
Like this, priceless asswipes and trifes bite this
I feed off of the creed, I need friends, foes
Hoes and bimbos, I swallow your soul, swallow your soul, like this
[Interlude]
King Tech on the mix
Rock the beat, the-the-the beat
Rock-rock-rock, rock the beat
With Tech, with Tech, with Tech, with Tech...
[Hook 2x]
For the emcees that we know that can't rhyme
Whether on tape, 12 inch, they flat-line
Either you rhyme for a livin' or livin' it for the rhyme
Check the hollow-point and cock back the Tec-9
