(Intro)
Bitch I'm tapped in
I done' came from nothin'
I'm tapped in
I done' came from..
Hungry but Humble, Oh My God I love your sound
(Chorus)
(yea), bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 1)
I had to push this HBH & I had to make me a plate
I know the feelin' of stomach pains when you ain't had shit to ate
I know the feelin' of goin' down bad & I ain't even have no plays
Yo homie a snitch & nigga you told
You niggas should be ashamed
I'm pushing this HBH
I know the feelin' of using a stove for heat when shit get late
I know the feelin' of broke niggas hatin'
I know the feelin' of seeing these niggas switch and I ain't even have no change
You know the feelin' of losing and I can't dig it
What happened you had the range
F*ck nigga tried to set me up I had to plan & switch the lane
This for the niggas that came up in the trenches raised on section eight
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 2)
SRT, niggas watchin' Prince just like its PPV
2, 3 I keep my shit cut just like I'm Boosie
Who is this nigga?
If he pose a threat, security blew this nigga
If he trynna' short my cut I tell my lil whoadie to cut his fingers
Endure the pain & I went through the trenches
Cll of the nights I ain't even have chicken
Comin' from less I done' made the difference
Record everyday like it ain't no limit
Im that same young nigga that f*ck up the bag but still i run up the digits
Im that same young nigga that run up the bag till I put my mama in tennis
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
Tapped In Video (MV)
The Prince Of L.A. - Tapped In Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
(Intro)
Bitch I'm tapped in
I done' came from nothin'
I'm tapped in
I done' came from..
Hungry but Humble, Oh My God I love your sound
(Chorus)
(yea), bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 1)
I had to push this HBH & I had to make me a plate
I know the feelin' of stomach pains when you ain't had shit to ate
I know the feelin' of goin' down bad & I ain't even have no plays
Yo homie a snitch & nigga you told
You niggas should be ashamed
I'm pushing this HBH
I know the feelin' of using a stove for heat when shit get late
I know the feelin' of broke niggas hatin'
I know the feelin' of seeing these niggas switch and I ain't even have no change
You know the feelin' of losing and I can't dig it
What happened you had the range
F*ck nigga tried to set me up I had to plan & switch the lane
This for the niggas that came up in the trenches raised on section eight
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 2)
SRT, niggas watchin' Prince just like its PPV
2, 3 I keep my shit cut just like I'm Boosie
Who is this nigga?
If he pose a threat, security blew this nigga
If he trynna' short my cut I tell my lil whoadie to cut his fingers
Endure the pain & I went through the trenches
Cll of the nights I ain't even have chicken
Comin' from less I done' made the difference
Record everyday like it ain't no limit
Im that same young nigga that f*ck up the bag but still i run up the digits
Im that same young nigga that run up the bag till I put my mama in tennis
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
Bitch I'm tapped in
I done' came from nothin'
I'm tapped in
I done' came from..
Hungry but Humble, Oh My God I love your sound
(Chorus)
(yea), bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 1)
I had to push this HBH & I had to make me a plate
I know the feelin' of stomach pains when you ain't had shit to ate
I know the feelin' of goin' down bad & I ain't even have no plays
Yo homie a snitch & nigga you told
You niggas should be ashamed
I'm pushing this HBH
I know the feelin' of using a stove for heat when shit get late
I know the feelin' of broke niggas hatin'
I know the feelin' of seeing these niggas switch and I ain't even have no change
You know the feelin' of losing and I can't dig it
What happened you had the range
F*ck nigga tried to set me up I had to plan & switch the lane
This for the niggas that came up in the trenches raised on section eight
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
(Verse 2)
SRT, niggas watchin' Prince just like its PPV
2, 3 I keep my shit cut just like I'm Boosie
Who is this nigga?
If he pose a threat, security blew this nigga
If he trynna' short my cut I tell my lil whoadie to cut his fingers
Endure the pain & I went through the trenches
Cll of the nights I ain't even have chicken
Comin' from less I done' made the difference
Record everyday like it ain't no limit
Im that same young nigga that f*ck up the bag but still i run up the digits
Im that same young nigga that run up the bag till I put my mama in tennis
(Chorus)
Bitch I'm tapped in I tell my lil whoadie to bring them straps in
He get clapped quick I tell security do his ass in
Talkin' past tense we do not wanna hear about yo' last year
Tote this ratchet, I pray up to god and then I persevere
Writer: Dmitry Kokurin, RASHID PACHECO JR
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC