Текст песни Don't Tap That Glass / Tweakin' - Tyler, The Creator

Ayy, uh, uh
Ayy, uh, ayy, uh, ayy, uh

Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
There's a monster in it
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Baby, don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
There's a monster in it
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Baby, don't tap

Bling, bling, bling, bling, baow
Michael Jordan eyes, neck yellow, look like Bing Bao
If it's feelin' weird, pull the beam out like Bing Bao
Ping pong, baby, chow down on that P now
All these niggas wanna be me now
So much snot in my pocket, bro, I need a tissue
Niggas think they Rolling Stone, we can press the issue
Every curly hair bitch in L.A. I done had
Got the F40 on the 405 throwin' ass
Brodie got his bitch took, brodie got his head bust
Brodie got his chain snatched, brodie must be fed up
We told you, you ain't wanna listen
Now you lookin' like a victim

Bring it back, bring it back, we back it up
Nigga with a stack, spend a stack, we stack it up
Talkin' down on the squad, we turn it up
Honestly, baby, I don't give a fuck

Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
There's a monster in it (Rat-tat-tat-tat)
Don't tap that glass
Baby, don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass
There's a monster in it
Don't tap that glass
Don't tap that glass

Fuck the damn po
Niggas said I lost touch with the regular folks
I ain't never been regular, you niggas is jokes
What that vest gon' do, boy? I aim at the throat
Got a pocket full of snot, but your spirit is broke
Like, forty-nine, still in the street
Like, your prostate exam in a week
Like, nigga, trauma bond off the hate
I got hugs in my home, bitch, I cannot relate (Ugh)
Ayy, baby, wanna know what I might do?
That's about nine inches long if I like you
You can get a workout, not in the gym, bitch
You ain't gotta lie, we can smell the Ozempic

Bring it back, bring it back, we back it up
Nigga with a stack, spend a stack, we stack it up
Talkin' down on the squad, we turn it up
Honestly, baby, I don't give a fuck

Don't tap the glass
Huh, huh-huh
Bro, bro
Call my mama, bro
Hey, hey-hey, huh, huh
Bitch, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Bitch, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Bitch, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Bro, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Ha, ha, catch your breath
Ha, ha, catch your breath
Ha, ha, catch your breath
Ha, ha, catch your breath
Ho, I'm trippin', toes tied
Call my mama, four-five
Six nights at crypto, bitch, I fuck to this so fire
I'm an old soul, I'm a.38 special
Feel like Detroit, Red Floyd with Meth, uh
Black on prime night, hair, I'll pressure
Shit goin' up like brain blood pressure
About that guap, about that guap
About that guap, about your ching
About that guap, about that guap
About that bread, about your leaves
Feel like Slick Rick, neck look like when
You stare at the sun too goddamn long
I fucked her and her friend, her friend, her
Yeah, this pussy, I know I'm wrong
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty
Fifty tickets on me
I'm in Atlanta with Boat off Peachtree
Baby blue Beamer go beep-beep
I'm not really pussy, I'm FeFe
That Thriller ride on me like hee-hee

Tweakin', huh, huh
Bitch, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Bitch, I'm tweakin', huh, huh
Bitch, I'm— ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Catch your breath, ah, ah
Catch your breath, ah, ah
Catch your breath, ah, ah
Catch your breath
I'm tweakin'