Young Nudy – “Soul Keeper” [Audio, Lyrics, Video]

American rapper, Young Nudy premieres the visual for “Soul Keeper”. The song was produced by Coupe. Watch the video, listen, stream, buy, read the lyrics, mp3 download the song.

Young Nudy Soul Keeper

Young Nudy recently delivered his new album, the sinister Dr. EV4L, a project that many have already praised among his best. Many including us over at HNHH — you can check out our official review of the project right here. Today, the villainous Atlanta artist has come through to deliver some new visuals from the project, opting to land on the COUPE-produced “Soul Keeper.”

Visually, the clip is relatively straightforward, following Nudy in a few different locations — namely a lavish luxury penthouse, where the bulk of the clip takes place. Spitting bars as he smokes weed and stacks paper, Nudy’s charisma comes through in spades, as does his intimidating presence once the ski mask comes out. “Shoot that motherfucker ’til I see that ni**ga not breathing,” he raps. “And I put on stunna frames so these ni**as cannot see me / Sit behind this black tint, black stick get to squeezin’.”

Young Nudy – Soul Keeper (prod. COUPE)

Lyrics

[Intro]
You fuck niggas better stand the fuck up for your motherfuckin’ zone, you bitch
You ain’t stand up for what you doin’, then nigga, what the fuck you doin’ it for, fuck nigga?
Fuck wrong with you, nigga?
And you gotta feed your family regardless, fuck nigga
You know me, huh? (COUPE)
Y’all niggas be talkin’ too much, I don’t do that
You know what’s up with me, nigga, yeah
EA them, haha, slime, SB, yeah, PDE

[Verse 1]
Run like a track meet, I chase you down, bitch nigga
How do I feel? Like hittin’ a stick, I might just kill a nigga (Yeah)
Kill him and his partner evidence, you know I spin, nigga (Yeah)
Get rid of rich niggas, yeah, I take shit, nigga (Uh-huh)
Never been a hater, I make money, I’m a motivator
Fuckin’ all these bitches ’cause they fuck with me ’cause I got paper
And exotic in my body, smokin’ on Miyagi (Ooh)
And I’m choppin’ up this brick like I do karate (Do karate)
I might trick a country boy and sell him clean, nigga, I got it (Nigga, I got it)
So much baking soda in that shit, you know I love the profit (Yeah, yeah)
And I like to stack up all this shit and add it up, I got it (Yeah, I got it)
Two months, bitch, I just made ’bout five hundred thousand (Five hundred thousand)
That’s just off features, bitch, now don’t think we is equal (We not equal)

[Chorus]
I just made ’bout one-fifty off of reefer (Yeah)
And I smoke it, I’m a chiefer (Yeah)
And I put my army on a lick, gotta feed my people (Yeah, yeah)
When it come to that money, you know I am evil (Uh-huh)
Stick talk, the grim reaper (Stick talk)
Sweep you off your feet, I like that street sweeper (Street sweeper)
In your dreams with MAC-90s, jeepers creepers (Uh-huh)
Smoke your ass just like this reefer (Smoke you)
9-1-1, he tryna call them people, popped at all his people
Showed that motherfucker we not beefin’, you know how we eatin’ (How we eatin’)
I don’t like to beef with pussy niggas if I ain’t got no reason (Got no reason)

[Verse 2]
Shoot you in your heart, no cock-back, pussy nigga, know I squeeze it (Uh-uh)
I don’t need no backup, thirty round, yes, I do keep it (Do keep it)
Take me a deep breath, exhale, start squeezin’ (Baow)
Shoot that motherfucker ’til I see that nigga not breathin’
And I put on stunna frames so these niggas cannot see me (Yeah)
Sit behind this black tint, black stick get to squeezin’ (Yeah)
Thinkin’ ’bout some crazy shit, take somethin’, nigga, know we beefin’
Nigga took somethin’ from me, dawg, it’s smoke, nigga, at Four Season
Shout out to the Hamp, they the only gang I know that squeezed it
We were beefin’ for no reason
They went down the street, we like, “Fuck that shit, let’s get to squeezin'”
Now we strike the beef, we eatin’
And I fuck with a couple real Crip niggas from Four Season
And my dawgs, they passed on Boulevard, gang out for no reason
And we from the Eastside and we handle straps, you better believe it
Thirty on us, nigga can see
Throw this shit up, big-ass B
Throwin’ up the pyramid
You know where I’m from, I’m PDE
‘Til the day I D-I-E, you niggas cannot fuck with me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I got your bitch, she on my T-I-P (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Rubber on, no Eazy E (Damn)
Bitches know it’s M-O-E (What?)
I ain’t stuntin’ no M-O-B
Money over everything when this shit come to me

[Chorus]
I just made ’bout one-fifty off of reefer (Yeah)
And I smoke it, I’m a chiefer (Yeah)
And I put my army on a lick, gotta feed my people (Yeah, yeah)
When it come to that money, you know I am evil (Uh-huh)
Stick talk, the grim reaper (Stick talk)
Sweep you off your feet, I like that street sweeper (Street sweeper)
In your dreams with MAC-90s, jeepers creepers (Uh-huh)
Smoke your ass just like this reefer (Smoke you)
9-1-1, he tryna call them people, popped at all his people
Showed that motherfucker we not beefin’, you know how we eatin’ (How we eatin’)
I don’t like to beef with pussy niggas if I ain’t got no reason (Got no reason)

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