Soul in the Hole

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah] Ayo, yo, yo, 'sup, where my team at, where my team at? C'mere, y'all, c'mere, c'mere Circle around me, y'all, circle around me Yo, Timbo, check it, you bring the motherfuckin' rock up Sin, Dreddy, y'all niggas is forwards Shyheim, I want you on guard Tekitha, baby girl, yo, check it, you play center Let's whip these niggas asses, c'mon, kid Word up, run [Intro: Tekitha] Hole Hole, oh, oh, oh, oh [Verse 1: Dreddy Krueger & Timbo King] We be a team, 'cause everybody plays a part in this Ain't no chuckin', we comin' from the parks where the gun sparks After dark, you got your three point shooters Scrubs who quick to fire you out 'cause your style is out We drinkin' quarts on courts so how you handle it? Shootin' bricks or sellin' bricks, we still scramblin' With offense and defense, I use the baseline To score points frequent (Yo, yo) [Verse 2: Timbo King] Yo, check the mic so I can slam without a crossover Wack jump shots, punk rock players get tossed over By the bleachers, I'm bringin' pressure like a power forward You try to walk and get away with it, the ref saw it Your startin' five couldn't get verbal live I penetrate across the lane, all reasons mines Percentage from the field is real, we hardballin' Swish shot in your face, your coach is callin' For a timeout, I bomb your rhyme out with a free throw Fast break through the legs, crush your rookie ego You steppin' out of bounds son, now how that sound, dunn? I thought we was playin' ball, don't start at round one [Interlude] Time the fuck out I got a illegal defense on the wack MC Number four, you can't be doin' that shit Hold on God, peace God, hold on, hold on I don't give a shit, I'll snuff you [Chorus: Tekitha] Soul in the hole Soul in the hole [Verse 3: Shyheim & Killa Sin] I know niggas liver than Allen Iverson Take it to the hole and roll it in, triple-doubling Suicide drills get your calves built Crossover's ill, have you thinkin' water spilt With the two-three zone we smoke 'em like bones And with the W-I-N, we punchin' ya home Sore losers take off they jersey 'cause they ain't James Worthy Your bitch mad 'cause they ain't get they hands dirty Lame, better not open up that Gatorade 'Til you get game, sport, hit the gym and train Do some jumping jacks and sit ups, then maybe you can get up But as for now, the scoreboard gets lit up Take it down the middle and throw it all day We number one draft pick, W-S-A Nigga, you can't stop my J How I do it everyday (Yo) [Verse 4: Killa Sin] We throwin' fifty-two blocks at outside shots to bubble up the snot box No penalties or shot clocks, it's similar to Comstock kid You catch an elbow in this hellhole of concrete Add a touch of soul before we compete You better have your Vietnam fleet, my squad deep like Ethiopians Peep me in the open and I'm closin' in Focus on the broken rim now, we shake a bone out your stand Toss a back pass with enough force that it'll crack glass We celebratin' at last for stoppin' you So take your sorry black ass, back to the locker room, yo My team work to make your team hurt, we pullin' up skirts So back down before these Wu niggas tear the fuckin' shack down What? What? What? (No doubt, no doubt) We got the all-star lineup here (Soul in the hole) Y'all niggas better sign up for my team, kid, for real [Chorus: Tekitha] Soul in the hole Soul in the hole Soul in the hole Soul in the hole Hole, hole, hole, soul