Soldier
[Verse 1: Jon Connor]
They like you mad, well yeah, I'm on a mission in fact
If I wasn't black, I prolly wouldn't even listen to rap
Niggas lost, no direction, they missing the map
I hear they tracks, I get more excited when I'm fixing the flat
The game fuck niggas, artist got a dick in they crack
See I'm the realest and I'll be damned if I sit in they lap
I make them disappear, but I got another trick in my hat
This shit I write, will slice rappers, will split them in half
Spit heat, melt niggas, only left is they bones
Body track, the shit is gonna be like the best of Stallone
I'm the wrong one to test, when I get in my zone
You do, you fucking yourself like having sex with your clone
Ain't a question I'm nice, like I just couldn't be wrong
Y'all annoying that ex bitch that just couldn't move on
Ain't nobody out that can match what I do on a song
Fly city's finest up next, who would have known, a fucking soldier
[Hook]
I'm a soldier, I never bend or break, go ahead and test me
Let's see how much I can take, I'm a soldier
Go ahead and try to doubt me, think I'mma lose?
Then y'all don't know nothing bout me
I'm a soldier, I never bend or break, go ahead and test me
Let's see how much I can take, I'm a soldier
Go ahead and try to doubt me, think I'mma lose?
Then y'all don't know nothing bout me
[Verse 2: Jon Connor]
Know I ain't tripping it ain't that just want keep with the face facts
That we live in an era where we got rappers that can't rap
And why would you get a ring and a box if you can't scratch?
So why would grab a mic and do this if you can't snap
They sell out the carper, might as well be painting they face black
What the fuck is you been talking bout?
Niggas making me hate rap
When I get on the track it feel like I'm making them take left
The last of the real ones, guess I'm here embrace that
I guess the bullshit needed for me to rebail
And be dope as spit, crack I could legally sell
Run shit, niggas moving at the speed of a snail
Lock shit, with these bars got the key to the cell
This is extra rare when they ringing the bell
Punch lines, every time they repeatedly swell
Big Red, dangle mother fuckers over the rail
My heart beats for this shit, y'all niggas need to be scared
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Jon Connor]
I'm killing emcees, and beats, they ain't dying of old age
I'm running them over, it's the result of my road rage
So many bars it's like I'm trapped in my own cage
One hundred percent, real shit when I'm on stage
You lasted a race, well I'm just too fast for your pace
You gonna get passed, and it's too bad, I just laugh in your face
Not in snatching you bait and then they ask any ways
The other half of your face, on the other half of the state
Ain't no gas in your tank, nigga you blastin with blanks
So imagine your faith when you're fin to clash with a tank
Gorilla grind, a squad, we the planet of apes
Take a stab at my spot like taking a stab to the face
Studio, no sleep, no other way I could put it
Eyes red, blood shot looking like crimson bullets
I know all these motherfuckers prolly hate what I'm on
Honestly, I don't give a shit, y'all can hate till I' gone
[Hook]