Don’t Tap The Glass / Tweakin’

[Letra/ lyric Don’t Tap The Glass / Tweakin – Tyler, The Creator]

[Part I: Don’t Tap That Glass]

Ayy
Hm, uh
Ayy, uh
Ayy, uh
Ayy, uh

Don’t tap that glass, don’t tap that glass
Don’t tap that glass, hey, d-don’t tap that glass
There’s a monster in it
Don’t tap that glass (Bro), don’t tap that glass (Bro)
Baby, don’t tap that glass (Huh)
Don’t tap that glass (Baby), don’t tap that glass (Baby)
Don’t tap that glass (Baby), d-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, baow
If it’s feelin’ weird, put a big mouth like bing, baow
King Kong, baby child down on that Me-Mow
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 LA outa’ hand
Got the F-40 on the 405, throwing ass
Brodie got his bitch took
Brodie got his head bust
Brodie got his chain snatched
Brodie would be fed up
We told you, you ain’t wanna listen
Now you lookin’ like a victim

Bring it back, bring it back
Wе back it up, nigga, do the stack
Spin the stack, we stack it up up (Uh)
Niggas talkin’ down
On thе squabble, we turn it up (Uh)
Nigga, honestly
Baby, I don’t give a fuck

Don’t tap that glass, don’t tap that glass
Don’t tap that glass, nigga, don’t tap that glass
There’s a monster in it, rah-tah-tah-tah
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, nigga, don’t tap that glass
There’s a monster in it (rah tah, tah, tah)
Don’t tap that glass, don’t tap that glass
Baby, don’t tap that glass

Nigga said I lost touch with the regular folks shit
I ain’t never been regular, these niggas is jokes
Put that vest on, boot boy, I aim the spear at his throat
Got a pocket full of snot, bitch
I’m sparin’ this broke, like “Bitch!”
Forty-nine, still in the street, like, “Bitch! ”
Your prostate exam in a week, like, “Bitch!”
Nigga shot my bomb off the hate
I got cubs 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 work out, 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, do the stack
Spin a stack, we stack it up up
Niggas talkin’ down
On the squabble, turn it up
Nigga, honestly
Baby, I don’t give a fuck

Don’t tap the glass

[Part II: Tweakin’]

Ha
Ha
Haha
Ha
Bro
Bro
Call my mama, nigga
Bro
Ha, ha
Ha, ha
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
Catch your breath, bitch
Catch your breath, bitch
Catch your breath, bitch

Bro, I’m trippin’, toes tied
Call my mama 4’5″
Six nights at Crypto
Shit, I should have did So-Fi
I’m old soul, I’m a 38 Special
Feel like a trick, Red-41 mecha
Black on prime and here I pressure
Shit goin’ up like gritty love pressure
About that guap, about that guap
About that guap, about your ching
About that guap, about that guap
About that bread, about your lief
Feelin’ like Slick Rick, neck look like you starin’ to tne sun for too goddamn long
I fucked her, her friend, her friend, her nigga and his bitch, I know I’m wrong
(Goddamn)

Ten (Uh)
Twenty (Uh)
Thirty (Uh)
Forty (Uh)
Fifty (Uh)
Ticket (Uh)
On me (Uh)
I’m in Atlanta with both peach tree
Maybe glue beam, I go beep, beep
I’m not really pussy, I’m feet, feet
That thrill is right on me like hee, hee

Tweakin’, huh, huh (Funky ass bitch)
Bitch, I’m tweakin’, huh, huh
Bitch, I’m tweakin’, huh, huh
Bitch, I’m, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
Catch your breath, bitch
Catch your breath, bitch
Catch your breath, bitch
Catch your breath, bitch
Bitch, I’m tweakin’