knockin - sweet t lyrics
[intro]
(ooh, sh*t, that’s a*, danny g on the beat)
cocaine?
methamphetamine
but i’m*, i’m*, i’m a manufacturer, i’m not a dealer
(f*ck with ’em, bill)
[verse]
i be touchin’ more cheese than the packers
i’m the type to manufacture, you’re the type to be a matcher
it’s safe to say you can never match my stature
got my workers servin’ fiends like skinny p and badger
glock*22 on me like i’m hank
so much cash in the stash, they won’t accept it at the bank
started off hand*to*hand and then i levelеd up my rank
nah, i’m rackin’ in the franks while i watch my [?]
started off with thе ls, but lately it’s been wins
three*hundred srt, ’bout to take you for a spin
two sticks on me, everywhere i go like i’m flin
all mac’d up with both, and toss them in the bin
[chorus]
i’ll make my own hours, i don’t ever clock in
the opps know they f*cked up when big sweet comes aknockin’
shoot you at your doorstep or maybe drop you with toxins
i gotta get you out the picture, ’cause conflict ain’t a option
there’s some different types of people: the sellers and they buyers
i’m on my own tier, producin’ for suppliers
my role requires fulfillin’ their desires
havin’ convos with my girl like [?] and skylar
[interlude]
no
there are a lot of angles to this, okay it’s complicated
right? so please, listen
please, listen, let’s just, sit back down
[verse 2]
i won’t juug in the lab if it’s dirty, i gotta keep it spick and span
my name ain’t gus, but you can call me the chicken man
i’m tryna get these ms, i had to pick a plan
now i’m movin’ contraband, with the bl!ck in hand
you’ll never catch me lackin’, i got the thirty*eight of nina
when i hit the arena, all my opps turn like tina
will bake it up, the blood, meth, and tears, shout*out to felina
wack the witness out of court and nullify the subpoena
my chop’ built like hule, i don’t think you want to duel
i get it out the streets but i could probably teach you in school
yeah, i could probably teach in yale
or i could kick your door in, and drop you like gale
[chorus]
i’ll make my own hours, i don’t ever clock in
the opps know they f*cked up when big sweet comes aknockin’
shoot you at your doorstep or maybe drop you with toxins
i gotta get you out the picture, ’cause conflict ain’t a option
[outro]
(ooh, sh*t, that’s a*, danny g on the beat)
(f*ck with ’em, bill)
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