"Soulful Beat" lyrics

(Marc Boomin, this you?)
Mm
I will go straight into this shit
Like, I ain't gotta think, you know what I'm sayin'?
I ain't gotta, it don't take a lot
Sometimes you just gotta let that shit go, you know what I'm sayin'?
Just, you feel me?
Bitch, it's the Coochie Man, mm

Sometimes you gotta let it go
If I did some shit, you gotta let me know
They tryna keep me in the hood, they won't let me grow
Like it's December 25th, I'm finna make it snow
My nigga came up on a pound, he tryna shake a 'bow
I made it fast, but it feel like it was takin' slow
We got the same twenty-four, like what you hatin' for?
You gotta get out here and get it, what you waitin' for?
A nigga got some drank and Coke and got a Drac' and coat
I'm sippin' on my last four, I gotta drink it slow
.223s to his head, I'm tryna paint his fro
You ever spent all your paper, had to make some more?
Damn, I know how that feel
Beecher nigga, you know where I live
Lightskin bitch, twenty-seven, she ain't got no kids
Mm, she ain't got no car, but she got a crib
I'm finna help you out, I might get you one
Like if I see you fall down, I'ma pick you up
Somehow I got her number when they was splittin' up
I miss fuckin' her, Katrina, she was thick as fuck
I feel like Martin Luther King, they gotta listen up
I feel like Pac, my opps got shot, we just hit 'em up
You ain't even got my number, how you hit me up?
They put the money in they— damn
They put the money in a pile, they gotta ante up
They fuck around and drop the bag, it got juggled up
It's too much money in the streets like a hundred plus
And you be sittin' in the crib tryna cuddle up