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sweet t - sweet chaka كلمات الأغنية

[intro]
my name [?], come on, man
(d_mn, jakesand)

[verse]
can’t corso on the beat, i’ll turn the best into chihuahua
put some hollows at your torso, tear your block to okinawa
spin wessons, agua, big sweet be talkin’ wah_wah
blowin’ zaza, blow around me, it’ll make you do the cha_cha
scr_p big as h_ll, and it be singin’ like sinatra
ain’t n0body f_ckin’ with me, you could call me “sweet shoka”
hundred rounds on the drum, make it rattle like maracas
dumb, my side piece from greece, her dad caught me like, “[?]”
pour a two of dirt, and k!ll all the germs with vodka
pop some boomers with ban, i thought he was chewbaka
i’m pocket man with the boomer, i keep it on me like saka
i only smoke the finest crud, y’all boys be smokin’ caca
you wouldn’t see a sober sweet, that’s like seein’ dry rain
straight pressure to the head like i’m smokin’ migranes
i rock the buffs so much, when i take ’em off, i get eye pain
i’ll send dutch up in your spot and disrupt the supply chain
whiter than a vampire, but i’m slant with the buffies
blowin’ pressure all day, stu’ smokey, no stuffy
i’m movin’ lowkey, in two years i’ll be rollin’ like i’m puffy
how the f_ck your baby dandy finna scoop you on that huffy?
when i’m with your b_tch i pipe her, you could call me roddy
nine milli’ tucked, this b_tch’ll blow the lungs out your body
.556 will turn that 2023 to a jalopy
they could never be like sweet, but i’m seein’ carbon copies
alley_oop the plan to my mans, like all i know is nice throws
i’m monotone as could be, but i got a nice flow
i conduct the plays this way, you could call me maestro
i had $kid slay the yae just to keep the price low
i threw my stuff to the fire but the streets is what i’m tempered by
a hundred bl!cks around this b_tch, you would think i’m semper fi
a real one, that’s what big sweet exemplifies
ip my counterparts, but the fake give me empty eyes
run up on me, i’ll turn the bl!ck to a empty guy
slap charge the k!ll_tec, what the f_ck is a empty five?
you on the ‘gram twenty_four seven with the anti_lies
i’m peakin’ off the boomers, blowin’ crud, like you should let me drive

- sweet t

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