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lirik lagu 7 horses – sweet t

[intro]
(come on, little guppy, come on, little guppy)

[verse 1: sweet*t]
yeah, you talk tough, but can i put them pounds on you
make the wrong move, i’ll put them hounds on you
give you found turn around, and put the rounds on you
seven horses in the front, i’ll put some ground on you
ride around with that load, i’ll drop a mound on you
folks be havin’ loose lips, i won’t make a sound on you (shh)
chopp’ could shoot from here to china, i’ll go out of bounds on you

[verse 2: $kid]
heard he copped his first pistol, now he’s a demon
dirty bangs blue, but he’ll leave a hand bleedin’
press a hundred xanny bars, and sold ’em all to keagan
got the big b*tch army so you know i ain’t speedin’
jacky hit my phone, like, “where you at, i need it”
if she comes up short, she can michael jackson beat it
dutch did a drill, took a video and tweeted it
my b*tch sent me a paragraph, i swipe left and deleted it

[verse 3: sweet*t]
the plug was stashed up, me and the gang depleted it
i just ran up 20k, and repeated it
the buffs are cool but pretty soon i need a completed kit
big sweet defeated every opponent i competed with
when i fly my resume, that’s normally what i lead it with
got the big b*tch on me, and you know that i’ma speed with it
i won’t talk in that route, i’ma plead the fifth
i told your girl i’m better than you, and she agreed with it
[verse 4: $kid]
two twin glocks, i call ’em hocus and pocus
up off the x pill, i can’t really focus
dropped the percs off, half of ’em were bogus
fake id at the phone store, hoppin’ they don’t notice
the fiends don’t ask to see the dope, if i got it they cop it
i make a hundred every gram, how can i stop it?
shot a opp with the canon, and let kyle crop it
put a play on the floor, dutch pulled up and mopped it

[verse 5: sweet*t]
every time sweet makes a move, hams want to adopt it
your best work is a flop, my worst song would top it
[buy povs?] on the chopp’, i don’t even gotta prop it
i’ll pass this b*tch to dutch, and let him pop it

[verse 6: $kid]
daryl smoked all the hard and told irene that he lost it
i’ve been servin’ fiends all day
i’m exhausted
i’ll have dutch pull up and hold your whole squad hostage
my junkie sniff the whole ball, the ref’ called a stoppage

[verse 7: sweet*t]
big sweet, big $kid, big whip, i’m big beaver
i’ll put the bl!ck down and chase you with the big cleaver
in this b*tch burnin’ up, you would think i have a fever
a couple people doubted sweet, but i turn them to believers
[verse 8: $kid]
army green glock get to blowin’ like a creeper
anvi copped the work for me, ’cause i got it cheaper
buy a whole thing of **** and it comes with a feature
i was listenin’ to gucci, you listen to the preacher

[verse 9: sweet*t]
you could wait your whole life, i’ll never do the feature
your girl’s busy with the gang, you should stop tryna reach her
i dove in the deep end, and it’s only gettin’ deeper
i be rackin’ up the meter until i meet the reaper

[verse 10: skid]
in the motel room with the zip sellin’ [teeners?]
when i got blow, i hit the o ’cause it’s greener
ten thousand all tens, i dropped it off at the cleaners
had dutch drop the plug
’cause he’s meaner

[verse 11: sweet*t, skid]
started in the mud, i’ma end with white pinkies
in the lab blowin’ crud ’til i come up on a ticket
seven sixty*twos, will pimp your ride like xzibit
irene popped a perc and topped it off with a whippit
pour some gunk in my pop, i chug, i don’t sip it
i’m the type to punk a opp then start talkin’ exquisite
he was talkin’ crazy on the ‘gram, dutch paid him a visit
bro hit a quad [?], and told chad to clip it

- sweet t

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