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letra de kundalini - sweet t

[intro]
(ooh, sh-t, that’s a danny g beat)

[verse]
what’s a million? i need something astronomic
calling sweet broke? you must be a comic
i don’t drink gin but this cup got that tonic
hope you brought some earm-ffs, all these rounds supersonic
you won’t catch me making moves that are short of iconic
white as h-ll and good at rapping, it’s sort of ironic
every thing i say is bomb, i’m atomic with the phonics
[?] tint on the lens but the h-rns colored onyx
my women used to be flat, now thick hoes give me cuddles
used to drink flat water, now i sip it with the bubbles
when i lay game on a dame i leave ’em standing in a puddle
used to freak one on one, now i take ’em in doubles
i’m not a k!ller, i only murder the yams
your clique’s full of corns, scrubs, burgers, and hams
i’m used to saying pounds, you’re used to saying grams
the only club that you ever spent money in was sam’s
boy, i’ll call the chop “lecter”, it’ll eat your mans up
the gang call me “lester”, how i plan these scams up
i’ll have hector bend your block in the f-cking ram truck
you wanna talk to your b-tch? let me pull my pants up
yeah, that b-tch suck my weenie
pull it out, put it in her kundalini
i’m really sweet t but if you’re dumb, i’m a meanie
glock with the full mag’, i’ll dump it in your beanie
the mag’ in my gun ’bout long as linguine
i’m not worried about your strap, that b-tch is teeny-weeny
i never wished it was different, i’ll probably free the genie
b-tch said she don’t eat meat? i’ma feed her zucchini
this summer i might change my name to “mo bands”
probably took a fight class ’cause i don’t got no hands
that’s why i pack a piece that’ll send you to the lowlands
white with ice in my veins, i’m d-mn near a snowman
i’m a workaholic and i talk vitriolic
got a room full of flower, told your b-tch come and frolic
i don’t cap in my rap, i just speak in hyperbolics
got a strap in my lap that’ll knock off your [?]
i put hoes under a spell, it’s like i fed ’em elixir
if you don’t know about sweet, you should read into the scripture
they need a earthquake booty, like a eight on the richter
you’ll wife a crackhead, talking ’bout, “i can fix her”
you tried to down sweet but all attempts are futile
i love touching chicken, i might be zoophile
i been getting bored with rap, i’ma make a new style
meanwhile your isle’s drying up like the nile
pearling ‘woods, blowing lemon cherry miasma
off the [?] this sh-t’s giving me asthma
big bl!ck on my hip will turn a opp into plasma
big check in my pocket but it ain’t come from fafsa
i’m a duel-edged sword ’cause i’m book and street smart
you claimed to be a crook? you don’t even look the part
you’re scared of the hook and you’re mommy’s sweetheart
your whole clique is candy-ass, y’all be sh-tting sweetarts
b-tch, i got it on lock, it’s going down like yung joc
whenever sweet talk i retain the whole flock
you won’t catch me sitting down, i’m always on the clock
and i never dropped a ball so pass me the rock

- sweet t

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