Tip Toe
Tip Toe

Sheff G, Sleepy Hallow - Tip Toe Lyrics

Aug 12, 2020
17
Tip Toe Music Video

Tip Toe Lyrics

Ayy, uh
Wait, wait, uh
Wait, wait, wait, wait
Hol' on, hol' on
(Great John on the beat by the way)
Tip toe, hol' on (tip toe)
Hol' on, hol' on, hol' on, huh

Tip toe (wait, wait), pockets on fat like a hippo (hol' on)
I turn your wife to a widow (yeah)
Bro just got blood on his new coat (that's a fact)
Damn, hol' on, huh (what?), Fuck it, huh
I gave her dick and she love it (uh-huh)
Ask that bitch what she want, she said, "Nothin'" (what you want?)
Birkin bag on her back and she frontin'
Birkin bag in the back and she cap a lot
I do drugs, I trap a lot (hol' on)
Bad bitch, fat ass and she laugh a lot (wait)
She be in the club, shake ass a lot (that's a fact)
Don't send the addy 'cause we got the drop (uh-huh)
Came from the bottom, now we at the top
Whoa, huh, what, ha (haha), I put my thumb in her, uh (that's a fact)
I just been running it up (run it up)
I'm like a stitch in the cut, yuh (uh-huh)
Bro got a pound of the Runtz (uh-uh, haha)
And we smokin', not baggin' it up, yuh
Whoa, huh, she stepped in the room with no clothes
Told her lean back, Fat Joe
My body different, I could take your soul (body different)
Only two ways this could go (go, hol' on)
You know (you know), I like fast cars, nice clothes (nice clothes)
Oh no, my heart (drip), so cold (so cold)
Don't love me, let me go, huh
Hol' on (hol' on), step up, huh (step up)
Jump in that water, get wet up, huh (wet up)
I like her best friend better, huh
Might let her tote my Beretta
I bet you must heard, Sleepy never let up, huh
I'm too hot, dawg, better catch up (huh)
Hol' on (wait, wait), hol' on
I'm too hot though, better catch up, huh (wow)
Pull up, huh (what?), Pop out, huh
Don't got my Glock, you get knocked out (yeah)
Ride through the block with the top down (yeah)
I'ma clean 'em up, I brought to mop out (facts)
Ayy, wait (what?)
Said they love me but I'm tryna see how
Free my gang, got 'em up in the dog pound
Ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down
(What? What?) Ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down (hol' on)
(Ayy, ayy) ran it up, ain't no puttin' my dogs down (gang, gang)

Tip toe, mm-mm, hol' on
Walk on this shit
You know how we rockin'
(Gang, gang, baow, Sheff Jesus, Jesus, gang)

They know I'm too fat to tip toe
Glock'll help you to rest, ain't no pillow
Make me search for your house, this ain't Zillow
Bullets sent from the Smith, ain't no Willow (hol' on, wait)
Did they just? (What?)
Did they turn the beat off in this bitch? (Ooh)
Spent that heat to your steam off in this bitch?
Stay with brooms, out the cleaner type of shit
Wait (fuck you mean?), 'cause I'm feelin' myself like I'm 'bout to beat off
No homo, my Glock got a dick and I walk with a limp like I'm deformed (huh)
Shorty neck is too bomb (huh), that's a C4 (huh)
Big pressure to dogs who oppose all of us (huh)
I got them big packs on me
No bodybuilder, straps all around like a dyke is with us
Baby so fire, guess, that's how I bill her
No domestic violence but I got to hit her
I got (ayy, too much, too much) too much sauce on they ass
I was the class clown, used to laugh
Wait who them niggas? (Right there?)
They tryna jump me, I called bro
If he don't got it, then his gang is soft
They tryna jump me, I called bro
If he don't got it, then his gang is soft (yeah, yeah)
If he don't got it then his gang is soft (yeah)

You know how we comin', 2020
Yeah, brrt-bah

Writer(s): Al Dubin, Jeremy Soto, Joe Burke, Johnathan Scott, Karel Jorge, Michael Williams, Tegan Chambers
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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