Seven! ft. Yvng Swift Lyrics

Ay, Yvng Swift n' Tahmond

Talk about family I charge like a battery (I'm on you)

I ain't tripping pussy niggas is after me

Groupie bitches trying to get me it's flattering

Block got cold and it'll have your teeth chattering

Talk in person 'cause the police be tampering

Asking questions for the shit I'm not answering

Your nigga pussy so stop with the pampering

The homie got out and he ripping no Hamilton (he ripping shit)

Knocked his ass out so the robbing was quicker

Gave no description just said it's a figure

Witness gone tell we gone slide like a slipper

Sneak creaking door like that shit was the thriller

(nigga) That shit was the thriller

I send a hit then check the status like skipper

Ain't no worries man that boy was a chipper

Squabble niggas he ain't hearing no nigger (nigga what you say?)

Sellin shit so do not talk without money

The prison slippers got these niggas on comfy (boolin')

Robbing his bitch niggas softer than gummies

He no hitter boy he stay in his studies (he a nerd)

Never got handouts I jumped off the porch when my brother pulled bands out

(real shit) Have I ever got slept that is something I can doubt (dumbass)

Take all your bread man I'm stealing your calories

Dirty bitches want my dick I got allergies

Call Up Chotty shoot the D's he take all the cheese (Seven!)

Box of tissues wipe your nose if you got to sneeze

My nigga Chotty shoot dice like he handyman

Nigga D gone bring the fear like he candyman (pussy)

Amauri be up in the pussy like pantyman

Killed that nigga for his hat ain't no Yankee fan

She fucking with me 'cause I'm popping

Shoot the D's and I ran in his wallet

Man look at the way he be talking

That's the reason I got it he don't got it

I'm 6'1 money 6'1 roll a seven on him now it's 6-8

I told him to bet on a 5-9 then I hit the bitch up in a '68

My rich homie Chotty he with it, He said go get a bag Ima get it

Got to keep all that shit on the low I be hiding my pounds from my mom and the po'

My money so long that it's gone need a scope Ima preach when I speak on the beat like a pope

Ima smoke on a G like a G with a G on my clothes If you try me we'll see how it goes

I make sure I live I'm healthy got greens in my bowl

Ima plug so you know that I'm keeping it close

Try to run in my house got the team at the door

Now he fleeing the scene with a beam on his nose got him looking like Rudolph

He make the wrong move and I'm knocking his shoes off

I don't need protection like most of these rappers fuck using a condom I'm too raw

If you got a problem well solve it I don't do the talking I'll leave you with loose jaws

Your boy still be talking that shit why he acting like I acting like I ain't just drag him like RuPaul?

Bitch I load up my gun and I make a deposit Your shirt turning red it was white out the closet

Ain't playing no scotch but the boy got to hopping

Stay out of my route like I'm Randy I'll Moss it (damn damn damn)

Now tell me who dropped you

Say you get money let's see what that guap do

Try to get to the bands but look what it cost you (damn damn)

That Taliban Money Gang shit

They fuck with Tahmond n' Yvng Swift anytime that we spit we go dumb on this shit

Where the weed?