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baby got brap - t-pain & hert lyrics

[intro: t*pain]
sheeesh

[verse 1: t*pain]
see you don’t want to test me, i come through in an fc cut
that nos hot, i drop the top and hit that effing b*tt(on)
i grab the wheel like my granddaddy left me something
it’s a half a mil but he said it best be custom (ay look)
that rotary motor better be holding me down
where there’s tires there’s smoke
and i’m chokin’ ’em out, i’m controllin’ the crowd
i’m bangin’, i’m bringin’ the heat
tell me how much angle you need
that turbo put a baby to sleep (ch*ch*ch*chhh)
baby got brap

[chorus: t*pain]
and when i pass ’em in a panic they be askin’ why i do ’em like that
i get the band together, put thеm hands together, trust me boy you can gеt ** clapped
i’m out here hittin’ limiters, and just because we similar don’t means that it’s * facts
that engine bay be hot so i ain’t gotta say a lot ’cause baby got

[verse 2: t*pain]
that candy paint look like rose gold
all new parts for my whips they got a old soul
i’m big timin’, my b*tch behind me gettin the roll on
wrong color smoke, you would think i was tryna call wrong [?]
ay what’s up with [tmt?], he ‘on’t wanna see me gleam
that’s 350z, sylvia pickle thing [?]
i ain’t got no catalytic converter, but you see the dream
if hater’s got beef, it must be vegan meat
baby got brap
[chorus: t*pain]
and when i pass ’em in a panic they be askin’ why i do ’em like that
i get the band together, put them hands together, trust me boy you can get ** clapped
i’m out here hittin’ limiters, and just because we similar don’t means that it’s * facts
that engine bay be hot so i ain’t gotta say a lot ’cause baby got

[verse 3: hert (t*pain)]
me and haraguchi, that’s the same thing (same thing)
hot boy rx*7s, you know he da king (king tings)
fat garrett turbo, make that engine sing
haitian boy with a dream, call me martin luther wing
nappy boy auto in this b*tch (permanent)
we work for this and now it’s mortal kombat in the tournament
we be laughin’ in the driver’s seat but it ain’t a skit
sh*t can go left real fast, check the angle kit
i taught pain how to slide on the track (yeah)
then pain taught me how to slide on the track (yeah)
twerk’s [?] tang don’t go brap, that b*tch got a v8
that motherf*cker go gyaaa [?]
fenders thicker than a snicker, let me tandem with ya
black*owned and driven, maybe you can tandem with us
but that’s just me and i can say that that’s that
’cause i got four rx*7s and at least one of them
baby’s got brap

[chorus: t*pain]
and when i pass ’em in a panic they be askin’ why i do ’em like that
i get the band together, put them hands together, trust me boy you can get ** clapped
i’m out here hittin’ limiters, and just because we similar don’t means that it’s * facts
that engine bay be hot so i ain’t gotta say a lot ’cause baby got

- t pain hert lyrics

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