Lyrics:
a theory of everything that makes due sense
But don't you know
Whether quantum or dynamic
In thought or by standard
That the moment you know something it
wit it (Huh)
It's triple 7
I wear it on me don't call it a pendant (No)
And I got the powers 11
But I might turn evil don't call me a menace (Woah)
She
Wallabies and furlongs
To undress it
6 inch by 7 feet
Rectangle, bent
To the naked eye
It looks like a line
The lion cries
The lion cries
7 sisters, 7
Yuhh I made the beat
I'm fly it's no question
What's on my feet
Some nice retro 7s
Where I'm going when deceased
You kno ima go to heaven
Talk is
we spending
But I don't regret it
Gotta bring her home by 3
Sing another note high key
Calendar blocked for going on dates
Sushi and steaks, Roxy at 8
getting money season
As I'm looking at the calendar
Time to double up the work and triple up the profit
Every second, every minute, every hour
Every day,
Lyrically, I’m 6 feet I'm
23 MJ on the beat I'm
Stronger, faster by design
I’m a Lambo, you’re a Nissan
I’m the big bad wolf, no peace sign
Gonna give these
gettin money gettin kash by the second
Had 30 i hit em wit 7 aye
Ill send a opp nigga to Heaven
I Just bought a glock with switch and suppression gang
Fuck
Have you heard it the original wordsmith
Twenty four seven on a beat I deserve this
I'll first second and third it with the verses I have a purpose
Have you heard it the original wordsmith
Twenty four seven on a beat I deserve this
I'll first second and third it with the verses I have a purpose
seconds
Shit, I guess they want some mo'
Bitch
Now slyde, Bitch(x7)
Criss cross, step right
Slyde, now I'm jiggin' it
Lean left, rock right
Wipe me down in
a ghetto nigga's lullabye
A seven-deuce full of niggaz goes by
Thought I was trippin the second time they rolled, by
Recognized the plates, the faces
when the Xanny's don't work
And he panic, ears ringing, when you call he can't hear you
Every seven seconds, eyes back up in the rearview
Something
to get by everyday of the calendar
World wide traveler
Pray when I'm landed
Rolling up tough blunts taste like candy
I'm the weddin crasher drive like
on my corner is owned by an Arab
But like a bucket I say fuck it I'm drivin'
Grab my dick, spit my shit and keep rhymin'
'cause some nigga's don't like
march in ranks with a vexed soul
To all the soldiers that were slain in the field, God bless ya soul!
[Verse 1]
This be the opening of the 7th seal
I'm
1 ounce, 2 blunts, 3 seconds
And I'm on the 4 oh 5 flying in my 6
Got a call from a 7, said she with a 9
If you add 'em up, that's more than
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ...
I've got my clipboard, text books
Lead me to the station
Yeah, I'm off to the civil war
The magnificent seven
Ring, ring, it's 7:00 A.M.
Move yourself to go again
Cold water in the face
Brings you back to this awful place
the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices,
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly 'til you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real
What
second guessed, but guess what this is
That’s right– you getting cut
Let me tell ya a story about that one guy that came by
He was a guy from around
owned by an Araib
But like a bucket I say fuck it I'm drivin'
Grab my dick, spit my shit and keep rhymin'
Cuz some nigga's don't like me, but I don't care
(Count up sum blessings)
I jus be high feel alive in this bitch wait a minute I need me a second
Ain no emotion or smile on my lip either way she be callin
Discuss these calender by 7 seconds Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In