Wiz Khalifa, Chevy Woods and Narissa - Tap

Do you mind if I play somethin' for you?

Oh, I'ma tap her pockets out
Soon as she walk up to me, I'ma make her count it
She wouldn't know what to do without me (oh)
We ain't in love, we get to the paper
And if another one choose you don't trip
That's how I know you a down ass bitch (okay)

You ain't gon' stop, go hard, don't quit
Chillin' at the crib, when you out, you that bitch
Used to be skinny, now you gettin' thick
Used to want a boyfriend, now you want dick
You a bad lil bitch
Tryna rack up, tryna get rich
Tryna get money for a new Birkin
Tryna secure the trip for your girlfriend
Tryna lock down the D like a permit
Other girls try to hit, you determined
When the bitches come around, you make 'em nervous
Make them other niggas pay for your service, me?

I'ma tap her pockets out
Soon as she walk up to me, I'ma make her count it (uh huh)
She wouldn't know what to do without me (I see who you with)
We ain't in love, we get to the paper (I seen who you wanna be with)
And if another one choose you don't trip (oh)
That's how I know you a down ass bitch (uh)

I'ma show her what these racks do
Gettin' top in my homeboy's bathroom
She got all that ass on her when she pass through
Good brain, she the smartest in the classroom
She gon' bust it for a nigga, I'ma throw them ones
I'ma need a replay, baby, not just once
Told her, we just getting started, and the nights still young
We gon' need more shots 'til we both get drunk
Look, I'm a fool with it
You paid the doctor for it, what you gon' do with it?
It's brand new to me, I don't care who hit it
No kids, sorry, I can't let loose in it
You be cuffin' on a bitch, I let her choose, nigga

I'ma tap her pockets out
Soon as she walk up to me, I'ma make her count it
She wouldn't know what to do without me (oh)
We ain't in love, we get to the paper (oh)
And if another one choose, you don't trip (oh)
That's how I know you a down ass bitch (ooh yeah)

He thought he was rich 'til I made him richer
He thought he was really winnin' 'til he met a winner
My nigga in the summer ain't my nigga in the winter
Spend that cash on a nigga if you really fuckin' with it
It's just me and mine we countin' this money all day
We so aligned, don't matter what nobody say
And I'll flip a brick quick instead of talkin' shit
With the shits, slap a bitch if she too up in my mix
On my nigga, all up on his dick, bitch, get a grip
I heard you thirsty for the tea, bitch, I know you wanna sip
(Want a sip)

I'ma tap her pockets out (oh)
Soon as she walk up to me, I'ma make her count it
She wouldn't know what to do without me (oh)
We ain't in love, we get to the paper
And if another one choose, you don't trip (oh)
That's how I know you a down ass bitch

Written by:
Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Narissa Matheney, Kevin Woods

Publisher:
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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