Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
The Creator Tyler

TIPTOE

 

TIPTOE


Niggas just rapping 'cause like
Why not?
Golf boys, ayo

I tip-tip-tip-tip toe in this bitch
Everybody got opinions, everybody got tips
Tell them Twitter finger niggas they can cancel my dick, hmm
I tip-tip-tip-tip toe in this hoe
Somebody tell the devil that I'm knocking at the door

Ayo, ayo
In my mansion, nigga salsa dancing nigga
Smiling on me face, I'm so handsome nigga
I was edgy, nigga, now it's Fetti
I get my backyard, oh that's the Getty
Nigga I, was in the garden couldn't fathom
It was snakes in the grass but I couldn't grab 'em
Focus on the Eve, nah focus on the green
In the trees with binoculars, looking for an Adam
Let me tell ya, I got dreams to sell ya
'Cause y'all reek of backwoods and some future failures
We was working deals, out finalizing hurdles
Y'all was out in Paris dick-riding Virgil
Hope them Insta photos keep you cool in coach
Clout yeah, oh, you out here?
Oh, you network, where your self-worth?
Nigga dick ride 'til your neck hurt
Nigga we OK, boy better know BBK
You want war then I'm G.I. Joe
You get cooked nigga B-B-Q
I Diplo then go MIA
Then skate off like a T.I. role (I say we get outta here)
Niggas pretend to be bosses
You signed a 360, you lost it
That's 400 for my exhaust, the mean with the walk
Now tell the Black Youth, to just be
Tell 'em never stop
Yeah we all moving, but you ain't gotta put us in a box
We can paint, we can draw, whatever
We can Lady Bird, we can Baby Boy
Whatever movie setting you choose
Just, just try to do better
And don't let them stretch you too thin, new leather, yuh

I tip-tip-tip-tip toe in this bitch
I tip-tip-tip-tip, run it (run it, run it, run it)

666 when we bag 'em, hmm
Y'all ain't even know about the madam, hmm
Y'all can get the packet with the atom, boom
Summer just got a lil heater, yeah
Flower Boy gold no gimmicks, I joke
And I ain't have to fuck a Akademiks to post
No radio play like once or so
Y'all swear y'all got the keys
I play piano, stop
Nigga, I'm the ammo in the Glock
Church pants, sandals with the socks
You niggas done, you better get the mop
No violence, curly hair bound to get the top
No violence, ayo
Incredible with commas I, make ya stretch like Violet mama, ayy
I go Dash and handmade ones the, neck Frozone like papa's partner, say
Incredible with commas I, make ya stretch like Violet mama in
I go Dash and handmade ones the, neck Frozone like papa's partner, nigga

Running in that bitch
At the bottom of the bitch
Had the doubles in the bitch
Double O, double O, double T
I was in a meeting, fucking with me
I ain't say nothing this off top of the dome
Shoutout Carti

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?