Top Songs By Tapri Grams
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tapri Grams
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
blake boochee
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
AngelHeavenSent
Producer
Lyrics
Bad lil' bitch you my bad influence Pretty ass bitch, she know how to do it
Freak ass bitch, she get right to it Fine ass bitch, they ain't used to it
I smell good and I look good Can I lick y'all body like my back wood
Knockin' on y'all nani baby like, wood
Why you come around, you know you ain't good A **** strip out yo kit, that's yo
Manhood **** two 12`s, beatin' out that boxwood
Gettin' marked out, really don't look good ARP ring, put you in the backwood
You got booked more than once, you need a new jug
All this dirty money, need a new tub Pop a **** in his tooth, make him go, uhm
I bought a dirty drac, bitch came with new gloves
We ain't gotta share no money, all new dubs She a team player, wanna give the crew love
Love a boss bitch, want more than two dubs You a Stanley ass ****, gettin' no love
If I finesse two times, you gettin' no love Knowin' if I see the Johnny's, know I gotta run
I like my bitch bossed up, can't be a pretty bum
I seen both sides, **** bread and the crumb
Aye them drums go ba-dum-bum-bum-bum-bum I be gookin' off, good gas in the lungs
Freak bitch, what you do at night with your tongue
Freak bitch, throw it back, till her phone rung
Anytime it's on the floor, you know I'm on one
I'm a G gang, baby, I ain't no ho, none If you speakin' on that bag, you better get one
I'm loadin' up a tree bag up on a dough run That's a ten-foot load for a dope run
Got bricks for the low just like Jordan one`s You stay down for this shit, know it's more to come
I'm a different type of ****, get your aura up
He ain't wanna pop out, so I popped up that I done fell in love with Glocks, I bought more than one
It's a different type of grease, make that floor jump
Lil' baby throw it back up on that tour bus I love the way you pop on dick, baby, prop it up
Know we racin' to that money, wake your corns up
Valet Park, foreign, pick them Doors up
My bitch don't wear clothes when I'm showin' up, yeah
I feel like, ye, showin' up to the Grammys uninvited
Written by: blake boochee