Soul Food

[Intro:]
Straight from money make, gotta go for cake
I'm the same cat told on Doug to snort the tape
Now my money straight, we frontin' on every state (What)
Cherry 8, tinted out temporary plates
Good Fellay', now what the hell they can tell me?
Bounce through LA, blowin' red pellet

[Verse 1:]
Ayo, rappers throwin release parties, we don't never get no invites
Fuck it, yo, they duckin' me and Pro because I've been nice
I been in the studio for nine days and ten nights
Niggas player hatin', figure skatin' over thin ice
Walkin' over water, he a shooter just like Glen Rice
If he don't hit the first time, he gon' spin twice
Swipe the boxcutter at your face until your skin slice
Hocus pocus, we the niggas turnin' men mice
Front page fame, play the game and pay the big price
You want to get us out the way you gotta send Christ
Obie Trice, real name, no gimmick, you can get shots for free
But this ain't no clinic, see me spinnin' through the city
In the Range Ro' tinted
To get this type of change you gotta save, don't spend it
Every tape you niggas droppin' take no limit
Make 'em paint a nigga whip, you thinkin' Maco did it
Sound like 4th of July when the Draco hit it
Fuck a chest shot, I'm tryina take your fitted
Shawty playing hard to get like I ain't gon' hit it
If you ain't seen what I seen then you ain't gon' get it, what

[Chorus:]
Granny you might lose a leg from soul food (Uhuh)
I ain't never lose my head, I'm so cool (What?)
Granny might lose a leg from soul food (Uhuh)
A nigga made a hundred thousand bands, no Pro Tools

[Verse 2:]
Ayo, me and my mama sit and sip the Margaritas
MMP on the hip that burn a dick like gonorrhea
We high speed dippin' in the V, you gotta see us
In designer shoes that's hard to spell like onomatopoeia
Pradas made in Italy, screamin' "mamma mia"
Hot box the blood mouth steaming out the Kia
Suicide skier, Fear of God joggers, make offers
That you can't refuse, I'm like the Godfather
I'd rather take trips to Dubai than buy charges
If I ain't the illest I'm drivin' a hard bargain
Sweatshirt from Chinatown Market, the jacket from Denim Tears Careers crash and burn when I spark it
Fly talkin', walkin' on clouds, the sky darkens
Brainstorm perform miracles with chains on, pourin' champagne
Touring the foreign lands when I campaign
Diamonds on my hands, I do the damn thing, what

[Chorus:]
Granny you might lose a leg from soul food (Uhuh)
I ain't never lose my head, I'm so cool (What?)
Granny might lose a leg from soul food (Uhuh)
A nigga made a hundred thousand bands, no Pro Tools, ayo, Diamonds

[Outro: Mike Powers Show]
When chaos takes root as the norm
And no voice can be found to lead the masses
Some force, some idea
Some person, always comes in to fill the void
I remind you of this fact because in this sport we call Hip Hop
I believe I have witnessed on far too many occasions squandered potential, and missed opportunities. The promise of this rapper or that rapper, only to be swallowed whole by the pursuit of things which hold no value, and allowing the opportunity for dominance, to flutter away like a feather in a tornado
They are no more kings than the trinkets they covet yet, they have made them into Gods
We of the solidified and certified Real Nigga Brigade reject such frivolous pursuit in favor of ideals, principles, and art that strengthens the foundation of this most important art form ever unleashed on this planet
I speak again, of Hip Hop, and to illustrate its importance, I have called upon the gentleman on the left side of your screen, to show you what the fuck I'm talkin' about
The truth, is in the timber of his voice, and the game is exemplified thoroughly through his speech
I'm saying his voice, and his bars
Different level than most
The combination of the 290% of these rappers cannot fuck with You act unfamiliar with the level of his pedigree, and ignore the threat he poses
Cut the games
You know who the fuck he is
And furthermore, you intimidated, weak, feckless, no integrity
Having protocol breakin', mediocre, rhyme spitting, fraud-ass running from real work, jack-riding, rap-ass niggas (Diamonds)
You trying to fool the consumer, and you sicken me
I don't want Mickey Diamond to be my secret
The world should be aware of his immense gift
And anyone of you who fail to recognize this have no business whatsoever breathing a word about this sport or partaking in its excesses
And this MC reps a squad that continues to earn the right to display unadulterated arrogance
I lead a small but mighty army that has stamped this man, and there is nothing that exists within your arsenal to impede the force that is his aura
If you're not followin' him, who the fuck you followin'?
If you're not bumpin' him, then who the fuck is you bumpin'?
If his bars don't make you wanna step your game up, you delusional and think way too highly of yourself, it's me
I'm sayin' this
So without further ado, for the first time on the Mike Power Show and live as fuck, from the collective known as Umbrella (Umbrella), the subtle threat that's set to morph into a full blown calamity and the virus for which there is no vaccine
Ladies and gentlemen, the most honorable and dangerous Mickey Diamond is in the building!