Lyrics

Tip toe through the window By the window, that is where I'll be Come tip toe through the tulips with me Tip toe Hol' on Hol' on, hol' on, hol' on Tip toe (wait, wait), pockets on fat like a hippo (hol' on) I turn your wife to a widow (yeah) Bro just got blood on his new coat (that's a fact) Damn, hol' on, huh (what?) Fuck it, huh I gave her dick and she love it (uh-huh) Ask that bitch what she want, she said, "Nothin'" (what you want?) Birkin bag on her back and she frontin' Birkin bag in the back and she cap a lot I do drugs, I trap a lot (hol' on) Bad bitch, fat ass, and she laugh a lot (wait) She be in the club, shake ass a lot (that's a fact) Don't send the addy 'cause we got the drop (uh-huh) Came from the bottom, now we at the top Woah, huh, what, hah (haha), I put my thumb in her, uh (that's a fact) I just been running it up (run it up) I'm like a stitch in the cut, yuh (uh-huh) Bro got a pound of the runtz (uh-uh, haha) And we smokin', not baggin' it up, yuh Whoa, she stepped in the room with no clothes (huh) Told her lean back, Fat Joe My body different, I could take your soul (body different) Only two ways this could go (go, hol' on) You know (you know), I like fast cars, nice clothes (nice clothes) Oh no, my heart (drip), so cold (so cold) Don't love me, let me go (huh) Hol' on (hol' on), step up (step up) Jump in that water, get wet up (wet up) I like her best friend better, huh Might let her tote my Beretta I know that your must turn, sleepy never let up, huh I'm too hot, dawg, better catch up (huh) Hol' on (wait, wait), hol' on I'm too hot though, better catch up (wow) Pull up (huh, what?), Pop out (ah) Don't got my Glock, you get knocked out (yeah) Ride through the block with the top down (yeah) I'ma clean 'em up, I brought to mop out (facts) Ayy, wait (what?) Said they love me but I'm tryna see how Free my gang, got 'em up in the dog pound Ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down (What? What?) Ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down (hol' on) (Ayy, ayy) ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down (gang, gang) Tip toe through the window Tip toe, mmm-mmm, hol' on Walk on this shit You know how we rockin' (Gang, gang, baow, Sheff Jesus, Jesus, gang) They know I'm too fat to tip toe Glock'll help you to rest, ain't no pillow Make me search for your house, this ain't Zillow Bullets sent from the Smith, ain't no Willow (hol' on, wait) Did they just? (What?) Did they turn the beat off in this bitch? (Ooh) Spent that heat to your steam off in this bitch? Stay with brooms, 'bout to clean this type of shit Wait (fuck you mean) 'Cause I'm feeling myself like I'm 'bout to beat off No homo, my Glock got a dick and I Walk with a limp like I'm deformed (huh) Shawty neck is too bomb (huh), that's a C4 (huh) Big pressure to dogs who oppose all of us (huh) I got them big packs on me No bodybuilder, straps all around like a dyke is with us Baby so fire, yeah, that's how I bill her No domestic violence but I got to hit her I got (ayy, too much, too much) too much sauce on they ass I was the class clown, used to laugh Wait who them niggas? (Right there?) They tryna jump me, I called bro If he don't got it, then his gang is soft They tryna jump me, I called bro If he don't got it, then his gang is soft (yeah, yeah) If he don't got it then his gang is soft (yeah) You know how we comin', 2020 Yeah, brrt-bah
Writer(s): Michael Williams, Joe Burke, Al Dubin, Jeremy William Soto, Jonathan Scott, Karel Jorge Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out