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Drakeo The Ruler – Red Tape, Yellow Tape Lyrics

Nigga we all know y’all tired of me talkin’ shit at the end of these songs but just keep my name out your mouth, you won’t have to hear from me no more. Had to bring Longstocking out, bitch. This shit reckless nigga, ’til we running your house. where the grams? This tape gon’ hurt niggas’ feelings [Verse 1]
Cold devil, I’ma do these niggas hella foul
Dick hanging out in public, I’m a pedophile
The type of shells that’ll knock down juggernaut
Boom boom boom, he was shocked when the hundred dropped
Ain’t with the squabbling, you finna get your celly popped
And I can sense all the hatred and the animosity
Up out the mud through katanas and Benihanas
Make the money doing flips ’til it’s Benihanas
I’m a grouch and a motherf**kin’ cookie monster
Where the safe? Mosley, all I wanted was the ransom
Half a mil in the duffel bag, just flash it
[Chorus]
Red tape, yellow tape when I’m out of bounds
Everything cool until we running in your house
I’m in love with ling ling but I got a bopper
And besides Maylene finna take me shopping
Red tape, yellow tape when I’m out of bounds
Everything cool until we running in your house
I’m in love with ling ling but I got a bopper
And besides Maylene finna take me shopping
[Outro]
Like, keep my name out your mouth. nigga spit it out
Duct tape and a mask, we gon’ get it out you
Let him live what your family gon’ be yellin’ out
[Chorus]
Red tape, yellow tape when I’m out of bounds
Everything cool until we running in your house
I’m in love with ling ling but I got a bopper
And besides Mae Ling finna take me shopping
Red tape, yellow tape when I’m out of bounds
Everything cool until we running in your house
I’m in love with ling ling but I got a bopper
And besides Maylene finna take me shopping
[Verse 2]
Cool devil, I’m a hooligan
Tired of niggas and his goofy ass jewelry
Take that shit to Pablo for that buffoonery
F&N shells for niggas like Booker T
Silly niggas always talking ’bout booking me
I think he mad ’cause he’s lost and always will be
Last supper, I can tell by your earrings
And them bummy ass clothes you be wearing
When you see me up in traffic we ain’t staring
I hope your car bulletproof, you gon’ be stranded
Mr. Free everybody though. Sike, bitch I’ma still keep talking shit, the f**k is you talking ’bout?