Soul Child-Yung Bleu Lyrics

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“Soul Child”


Yeah (Yeah, yeah)

For better or worse I’m here with you (For better or worse)

[Verse 1: Yung Bleu]

I just logged of the internet, ’cause niggas be fake beefin’

I showed these niggas what to do with a Drake feature (Yeah)

Six-time nominated, used to wait in line, I done got us accommodated (Yeah)

Just think about the last seven months that I dominated (Yeah)

The cars that we drive come in like common dеnominators

You could be the one livin’ this lifе or the commentator

I hope I live a life to see my niggas exonerated

Why they gettin’ canceled? (Canceled)

I’m not a slave in my whip, I’m ownin’ my masters

When I drop that Moon Boy I took off like NASA (Skrrt)

I’m finally at a place where we can talk ’bout the fucked shit (Fuck it)

Don’t need you complainin’ because I go through enough shit

These niggas all my sons like I grew up on Bushwick

I went from no money on my books to overbooked, bitch

We out in Palestine, they had to give me my flowers like I’m their valentine

It was a matter of time, I never talked to the cops when it was a matter of crime

How the fuck a legal drug turned to a federal crime?

I got some niggas in prison who doin’ federal time

And I heard you niggas fallin’ off, I could feel the decline

My shit through the roof, don’t give a fuck how the ceilin’ designed

Hangin’ with some made niggas who be on militant time

You niggas toy soldiers, when they was tryna keep me in the game, I crossed over

Feds tryna intercept the pack and got Moss’d over

Filipino hoes in the room get tossed over

Now look at me cross-over (Yeah)

And I rap like my life depend on this shit (It does, nigga)

I ain’t got no love for these bitches, yeah

They never treated me special, they never did shit but be extra

No Uber, make her drive herself like a Tesla

Guns on the dresser came with a compresser

Don’t you treat, treat, treat me like sixth man, uh, yeah

Ayy, tell the valet, “Bring the Urus to the parking lot”

I got shooters in this car, don’t whip up in this parking spot

I know niggas talk a lot ’cause they all make ’em walk a lot

I’m bougie, what you talkin’ ’bout? You never sucked this dick so stop

Bitches, they be fake as fuck, fake ass, fake titties

Fake attitude, hoe, actin’ like you don’t drink Henny

Talkin’ ’bout some nights before the tour, what you gon’ do to get it?

Ayy, I prolly got half of your rent, if not, get up in it

Pay me, the hottest in the city, I’m tryna take over the whole fuckin’ world

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]

The world cray, always first, never second, suck my third leg

Got her legs in the air like some bird legs

Fuck her ’til she can’t feel her legs like a mermaid

I’m a Perc’ head, lean fiend, I’m a weed boy

Coke on my fingers, work a key like a keyboard

Cocaine cowboy, yee haw, high comin’ down

Put some pounds on the other side of the see-saw

Yung Bleu, I got ’em, I won too, I’m not ’em

Put the gun to his collar, alhamdulillah’d ’em, yeah

Bum boo and olives, mushroom and molly

Been a pro since a kid like the young Luka Dončić

Promethazine make my punch punch like Muhammad

New Orleans love me like Miami love Udonis

Yeah, red bandana and blue collar

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, soul child in this bitch

Platinum teeth but they I smile in this bitch

What’s beef? Get the whole cow in this bitch

If you’s lack, keep your nose out of this shit, yeah


Yeah (Yeah, yeah)

For better or worse I’m here with you (For better or worse)

Track Information

Song titleSoul Child
ArtistYung Bleu
Release DateNovember 7, 2022


WritersYung Bleu, Lil Wayne & CC On The Track
ProducersLjay Currie, Mike Woods, LC & CC On The Track

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