Come Tap In lyrics

Lyrics from Snippet

[Intro]
Mm-mm, testing my gangsta lately, like
n*ggas don't get no money, for real
Ain't stepping on some sh*t
You already know, for real
Yeah, yeah

[Chorus]
If you ain't getting money, come tap in
Run it up and then flex with the backend
I was just down in the struggle like trapped in
Ain't gon' speak on the sh*t I did back then
I'm presidential, now pull up in black tint
All the problems I had on my life, love ain't never change nothing
But I swear that them racks did
Most of these n*ggas like b*tches posting guns on the 'Gram
But that ain't really you, catfish

[Verse 1]
My b*tch sayin' I'm more extra than adlib
Hit the gas, make the coupe do a backflip
My account balance look like a tracklist
n*gga try take some from me, bet I smack, b*tch
Need a b*tch like Serena who tucking the racks
f*ck n*ggas want me in caskets
Bro copped the thirty and shot for the basket, blrrr
I keep my feet up, they count my cheese up
Can't bring my gun then a n*gga get beat up
She feel my gun, she think she got my meat up
b*tch, it's poppin', it's safe where we link up
But I get away when I say so
Finger my baby then I go finger trough kasos
Told her I wasn't I cheater
But then she found out I was cheatin', tomato, tomato
[Chorus]
If you ain't getting money, come tap in
Run it up and then flex with the backend
I was just down in the struggle like trapped in
Ain't gon' speak on the sh*t I did back then
I'm presidential, now pull up in black tint
All the problems I had on my life, love ain't never change nothing
But I swear that them racks did
Most of these n*ggas like b*tches posting guns on the 'Gram
But that ain't really you, catfish

[Verse 2]
Oh, my f*ckin' God, you ran them bands
On granny, so much in my jeans, can't pull my pants up
Smoking on blues flame, you take one hit
It keeps your chest kicked
We made it trough hood with one, I feel like a vet
I told my brother if he ever stabbed in my back
I'ma shoot him, on God
Told this ho that I love her just so I could f*ck her
This b*tch shoulda know I was lying
Brand new racks, I'm smoking on ganja
b*tch, I feel like [?], on God
And if any n*gga got a problem
We gon' send his ass straight up to God
I'm feeling like Rod, I just made a wave
She be hating, she don't get attention from me
I be feeling like I'ma get played
Rule number one, put your money inside your n*ggas, not b*tches
'Cause none of these b*tches get save until we all paid
Got so used to the storm and pain
That I f*ck around drop the top in the rain
[Chorus]
If you ain't getting money, come tap in
Run it up and then flex with the backend
I was just down in the struggle like trapped in
Ain't gon' speak on the sh*t I did back then
I'm presidential, now pull up in black tint
All the problems I had on my life, love ain't never change nothing
But I swear that them racks did
Most of these n*ggas like b*tches posting guns on the 'Gram
But that ain't really you, catfish