Babyface Ray - Tap In lyrics
Babyface Ray [Marcellus Rayvon Register] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Babyface Ray - Tap In lyrics]
(Thank you Fizzle)
When I touchdown you better tap in (yeah)
Look, I been stacking up them backends
(Stacking 'em up) , yeah
I wanna cut, girl, fuck a lap dance
(I don't need no lap dance, nigga
I wanna fuck some')
We in the field, I ain’t got rap friends
(For real)
I’m only here to speak the facts, yeah
Got it out the mud, ask my neighbors
He’ll tell you (yeah)
You gon' be a star
Teachers thought I was a failure (What?)
Valet park the foreign
How I’m living got 'em jealous (They mad)
I can’t trust these niggas, bring it to me
Let me scalе it (Yup)
How is niggas broke? Nigga
Find you something, sell it
(Somеthing) i wanna drive 'em in
But the safest route is mail it (Safe)
Stand right in yo' mama kitchen
Cookin' like I’m Melvin (Look)
This shit 'bout guns and butter
Lil' nigga didn’t I tell you?
We ain’t doing petty deals
You got me fucked up (Fucked up)
The right work
The right time'll have you turnt up
(Will have you turnt)
Boy I’m from the Dirty Glove
They don’t give a fuck (Mm-mm)
Dice in the locker room had me missing lunch
(Shh) i’m with gang still
Good dope and pain pills
Independent, I done gave deals
I'ma remain real (Facts)
She gon' tat my name on her face
I got her drank sealed (O oh)
I'ma spread this cake in yo' face
I know how Ike feel chain got a light bill
K with the knife still
James Harden step back and shoot
Him with the left hand
Every time they see me I’m
With Red like Meth' Man
If she ain’t fucking first night, on sight
Get her best friend (Come on)
(Thank you Fizzle)
When I touchdown you better tap in
Look I been stacking up them backends, yeah
I wanna cut, girl, fuck a lap dance (Nah)
We in the field, I ain’t got rap friends
(For real)
I’m only here to speak the facts, yeah
It was Barneys, Saks, Neiman's in a row
Hit Miami, put yo' boo in a Ghost
Who is him?
You ain’t heard of Face? Fool he the GOAT
She wanna fuck me face to face
So I can hold her by the throat
Carti' shades to block the sun
Whites whiter then the Pope
I can’t fuck with gnats no more
'cause them bitches do the most
She got drunk and bought her friend
Now I’m cheatin' on 'em both
They woke up and cooked me breakfast
Once I ate I told 'em go
All these drugs got me noited
If he move brodie blow
Totin' sticks like cowboys
Welcome to the Rodeo peep the 10's OVO’s
I got twenty on me though (Uh)
When I touchdown you better tap in (yeah)
Look, I been stacking up them backends
(Stacking 'em up) , yeah
I wanna cut, girl, fuck a lap dance
(I don't need no lap dance, nigga
I wanna fuck some')
We in the field, I ain’t got rap friends
(For real)
I’m only here to speak the facts, yeah
Got it out the mud, ask my neighbors
He’ll tell you (yeah)
You gon' be a star
Teachers thought I was a failure (What?)
Valet park the foreign
How I’m living got 'em jealous (They mad)
I can’t trust these niggas, bring it to me
Let me scalе it (Yup)
How is niggas broke? Nigga
Find you something, sell it
(Somеthing) i wanna drive 'em in
But the safest route is mail it (Safe)
Stand right in yo' mama kitchen
Cookin' like I’m Melvin (Look)
This shit 'bout guns and butter
Lil' nigga didn’t I tell you?
We ain’t doing petty deals
You got me fucked up (Fucked up)
The right work
The right time'll have you turnt up
(Will have you turnt)
Boy I’m from the Dirty Glove
They don’t give a fuck (Mm-mm)
Dice in the locker room had me missing lunch
(Shh) i’m with gang still
Good dope and pain pills
Independent, I done gave deals
I'ma remain real (Facts)
She gon' tat my name on her face
I got her drank sealed (O oh)
I'ma spread this cake in yo' face
I know how Ike feel chain got a light bill
K with the knife still
James Harden step back and shoot
Him with the left hand
Every time they see me I’m
With Red like Meth' Man
If she ain’t fucking first night, on sight
Get her best friend (Come on)
(Thank you Fizzle)
When I touchdown you better tap in
Look I been stacking up them backends, yeah
I wanna cut, girl, fuck a lap dance (Nah)
We in the field, I ain’t got rap friends
(For real)
I’m only here to speak the facts, yeah
It was Barneys, Saks, Neiman's in a row
Hit Miami, put yo' boo in a Ghost
Who is him?
You ain’t heard of Face? Fool he the GOAT
She wanna fuck me face to face
So I can hold her by the throat
Carti' shades to block the sun
Whites whiter then the Pope
I can’t fuck with gnats no more
'cause them bitches do the most
She got drunk and bought her friend
Now I’m cheatin' on 'em both
They woke up and cooked me breakfast
Once I ate I told 'em go
All these drugs got me noited
If he move brodie blow
Totin' sticks like cowboys
Welcome to the Rodeo peep the 10's OVO’s
I got twenty on me though (Uh)