babyface ray - spill my cup lyrics
[intro]
you have to put the cup down
put the cup down, what you mean, man? you trippin’
you either gon’ stop or i’ma start hidin’ it from you
you ain’t gon’ touch my stuff, man
i don’t touch your stuff, don’t touch my stuff
don’t you want to see your kids get big?
()
you trippin’, man, it ain’t even that deep, man, you tripping
play with your grandkids
man, you trippin’, man, i’ma do all of that, trust me
all of that stuff is really, really, really important, i’m tellin’ you
what you gon’ do if i pour it out? let me see it
man, don’t pour my sh+t out, what you talkin’ ’bout? don’t touch my sh+t
let me see it
man, put my pint down, man
no
put my pint down
()
why should i?
[chorus]
d+mn, you cut me deep, feel like i spilled my cup
let’s run up this bag until i’m rich as f+ck (let’s run up this bag)
i work way too hard to treat this sh+t like luck (i work way too hard)
i been sensing hating from the ones i love
[verse]
pull up to the club, got me runnin’ dubs
i can’t hold a grudge, drag me through the mud
pourin’ fours of blood, pourin’ fours of wock’ (yeah, yeah)
masterpiece my clock
cost a half a dollar, quarter on my opps
sh+t, i want ’em bad
did a n+gga bad, now i’m in my bag
carry+on by louis just to hold my cash
it be hard to smile, ‘member i was cryin’
n+ggas on the ‘gram, i do it for the fam’
do doughnuts in the lamb’
the po+po come, i scram (haha, yeah)
i had a talk with god, like, “give me one more chance
i won’t let you down, bro gon’ work the pounds”
brand new nike tech, i’m finna serve the town
watch collection mean, ain’t gotta swerve around (no)
i was with my kid, i want ’em murdered now
gotta see my face, gotta hear my name
gotta feel my pain, f+cked me up that day
sometimes i be stressed, finna quit it all, give it all today
took the harder way
i’m in the mall with bae, like, “put your purse away”
you know it’s all on me
need help, then call on me
i still can’t call a soul, that take a toll on me
that drank controllin’ me
i’m who i’m supposed to be, no, i can’t ask for sh+t
i got racks to blow, i got racks to get
turn up for my kids
look at how i live
hermès in the crib, hermès on my b+tch
hermès on my belt, i’ma tryna whip a brick
say they want the old ray, tell them n+ggas, “suck a d+ck”
i’m at the top, i’m lookin’ down, they know i come from the trench
i just had a talk with wilson, new cuban gettin’ lynched
you know we look like the mob, be quiet, you get pinched
i’m on woodbridge side to side, f+ckin’ up my rims
dior wheats to match the jacket, i rock ’em like they timbs
you know, you know that i’m him (you know that i’m him)
[chorus]
d+mn, you cut me deep, feel like i spilled my cup
let’s run up this bag until i’m rich as f+ck
i work way too hard to treat this sh+t like luck
i been sensing hating from the ones i love
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