J.I.D - Tip Toe lyrics

[Intro: J.I.D.] Yeah, kamikaze, um, kamikaze, um [Verse 1: J.I.D] Kamikaze caramel covered karma on the tip of my taste buds Tip of the iceberg, tip to the waitress Tip on your toes mama, don't trip on the mink rug That's a lil mud, mama don't trip on that pink stuff That's a lil p**y baby, don't trip on the pink stuff I'm just tryna hit it once, no reason to break up She look at me like: "This n***a don't think when he say stuff" f**in' right, and that's probably the root to my problems 'Member I told you 'bout that time we almost got shot up They came from the back of the back, and plot to come rob us The funny thing with that, them n***as robbin' the robbers My homie lost a stack, I lost like forty-one dollars I said, "Both you n***as wackin' if I see you Charlotte" He held a gun to my neck, I don't why he ain't wile out Brocka-rocka, call my brother like them just k**ed Blocka But no nada, I quote shotta's Haha, gwala in my pocket, b**h I'm ballin', Prince Ali Ababwa Bwoy-bwoy life s**s on the other end of the blocka We dodge them shots from the other end of the block It's no end runnin' from n***as and cops Damn [Verse 2: Pouya] I been through the worst, I should've been inside that hearse The mo' I stack my paper tall, the mo' they want me in the dirt Six feet under, these woman make me wonder Would you still want my number? If that Roley wasn't under your budget I'll never know who really got the best intentions for me So I keep my circle tight and I got that Glock in my reach Without a question, see me runnin' to the check, no second guesses Smith and Wesson if they steppin' out of line (b**h) What's on your mind lil b**h? I ain't got no time for this Back and forth, mumblin' under your breath, just tell me what the f**in' problem is These problematic b**hes always want the finer things But you ain't fine enough to get your finders fee She want to squash, she want to [?], that's fine with me, finally f**in' hoes I thought I only see inside my fantasies That phantom ghost inspire me to do the most That Honda Civic made me hungry for some foreign motors Upgraded to the Porsche before I drank my Folgers Pour that 40 on the soil for my fallen soldiers Pour that 40 on the soil for my dead hope Never going back in time, never gon' be dead broke (b**h)