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2pac - Good For The Soul Lyrics

Good For The Soul Lyrics[Intro: Fatlip]
Yo, yeah
Yeah (Yeah) uh-huh

[Verse 1: Fatlip]
Food for your soul, my lyricals are medicinal
Third eye peripheral, I see it all, leave 'em in awe
Even if it ain't intentional
My mistakes are greater than what any fake nigga meant to do
I stop the negativity and elevate in a spiritual state
Something you define as a divinity
God, no complex, I just stay humble
Pass me the platter, I got kush to crumble
Stand tall like Mutombo, Lebron with the pen game
I'm going in like I'm going insane
You know my name, icon to the 80s babies
Don't play me, baby, bitch niggas got rabies
Is it me or is shit getting crazy?
End of the days nowadays nothing really faze me
Unless it pays me, I don't even pay attention
I'm about my money, that's just something I ain't gotta mention

[Chorus]
Relax and take notes
Th-Th-There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one
Re-Relax and take notes
There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one

[Verse 2: Blu]
Oh so you new in town? You New Edition, nigga cool it down
We shoot clowns out their squad cars, bars
On the blocks is the heavy metal rockstars
Making cops set a nigga free when we drop bars
I vanguard your pop charts
You Pop Tarts, you're not hard, you popcorn
You not hot, you just got warm, and got warned
When them shots swarmed, ayo, keys over locked doors
We shoot the truth that'll stop wars
We're on the block with the mom and pops at the swap store
We got ours, who got yours?
Blu got more, bro, hop off that Jaguar
I swear I told the whore I wasn't born a day ago
Coming out the bank with dough like I robbed the baker store
Black and gold like the Raiders at the Lake Show
Blu start balling and your pockets got their ankles broke
Damn, how you stand like a grown man?
With my cash on both hands, old man

[Chorus]
Relax and take notes
Th-Th-There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one
Re-Relax and take notes
There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one

[Verse 3: Hemlock Ernst]
Step up to the problem when the mission is impossible
Kick rocks, your progress gon' slump
Bumps from inside of the trunk
They hunker down when the artist in town
I open eyes when I author the sound
Why these cops never in hospital gowns?
Pops' in a lot of pain now since going under the knife
Streets in a lot of pain now but they been sentenced for life
Well, I was raised up in a White Castle
Obese prodigy with seven-headed Adam's apple
Dragon snatched me from youth but I escaped through the booth
Sniffing poisons 'til the roof of my mouth
Felt like the roof of a house, insomniac, always grinding it out
Not a sharp tooth left in the south
So I split from the flatlands, saved myself from God's leather belt
Only mom's, didn't need God's fucking help
'Cause what's praying to the sky save ya?
A couple holy words spilled out on the curb 'fore they cremate ya
No weed paper, forever blowed, the church of the Skypager

[Chorus]
Relax and take notes
Th-Th-There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one
Re-Relax and take notes
There ain't no stop-stop-stopping me
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
Lo-Lo-Load up the mic-mic and bust one