Rap Shit

DON'T TAP THE GLASS

Sugar On My Tongue

[Verse 1]
A summer night, mid-July, party lights
Are flying high, all my friends are laughing loud
I fake a smile in the crowd

[Verse 2]
You look so good in that denim
Is she really who you're in love with?
Tell me how I'm supposed to pretend I'm not breaking again

[Pre-Chorus]
I see the way you touch her skin like
She's the one that you live in and I just bite my tongue again

[Chorus]
I know you feel the electric in my touch
You can't deny you know it's more than just a crush
With the way you look tonight
I'm falling, can't fight the high
Yeah, I know you feel the static, we're close
You see it in my eyes, yeah, you already know
With the way you look tonight
I'm slipping deeper into the light

[Post-Chorus]
(The electric in my touch)
(Falling for you)
(The electric in my touch)
(Go, go, go, go, go)
(The electric in my touch)
(Feeling, feeling the electric in my touch)

[Verse 3]
You laugh like nothing's wrong
I've been holding back too long
Every plan, every move pulls me closer back to you

[Pre-Chorus]
Wish I could unread the sign
Wish I could press rewind
But here we are and I'm still lost in everything you're not

[Chorus]
You and I, it's killing me, but I swear you still feel me
In the silence, in the heat, in the pulse beneath the beat
I know you feel the electric in my touch
Don't pretend that this was never us
With the way you look tonight
I'm falling straight into the fire
I know you feel the spark beneath the rush
Like gravity, you're pulling me too much
With the way you look tonight
I'm drowning in the light

[Outro]
(The electric in my touch)
(The electric in my touch)
(The electric in my touch)
(Feeling, feeling the electric in my touch)
(The electric in my touch)
(The electric in my touch)
(The electric in my touch)
(The electric in my

ELECTRIC TOUCH

Sinclair Status

[Intro]

Ariella Sinclair Monroe, baby…
Rear-view full of haters, front seat full of spenders.
If he ain’t wired the money before we meet?
Block. Delete. Next caller.

[Verse 1]

Patek on my wrist, but his rent on my ankle,
Ass so fat he should send me a thank-you.
I don’t do boyfriends  I do bank statements,
If he wanna see me naked, that’s a down payment.

Pretty lil’ demon with a diamond-cut jawline,
Got his girl mad ’cause he Venmo’d me the whole nine.
Took him to the room, made him lose his mind —
Now he call my pussy “penthouse skyline.”

Yeah, I’m high-class trash with a Birkin addiction,
My lips stay glossy, my name stay mentioned.
Broke boys talk? I don’t pay them attention,
My life’s a rich girl movie — director’s cut edition.

[Pre-Chorus]

Black Amex in the clutch, that’s Sinclair status,
If I want it, I get it baby, I’m above average.
He asked “what’s your sign?” I said dollar, not Sagittarius,
I’m the fantasy he want  and the problem that's the baddest.

[Chorus]

Call me Ariella, lil’ bitch, I’m the moment,
If he ain’t six figures then I don’t condone it.
Pussy so good, made a millionaire moan it,
Now he buyin’ me diamonds like I already own it.

Yeah, I’m bougie and I’m rude, but he like that flavor,
Drop it on his face, now he call me his savior.
Ariella Sinclair your man’s favorite player,
Got him eating out my hand like I’m tipping the waiter.

[Verse 2]

I’m a walking red flag with a Fendi print halo,
Got three men waiting like I’m calling out K-ro.
If he want the cookie, that’s a luxury payroll,
I don’t chase dick ,dick chase my bankroll.

Ass so fat like a first-class cushion,
He kissin’ on my neck, got his heartbeat whooshin’.
I don’t cook, don’t clean but I do great pushin’
Them limits to his card 'til the bank start fussin’.

Yeah, I’m toxic couture, petty wrapped in Chanel,
He say he want love? Baby, I’m not that girl.
I’m the reason his last bitch cried, raise hell 
He called her an angel… now he knows I’m the spell.

[Bridge ]

Eat it like a rich dessert,
Make him beg, make him hurt.
He said, “Damn, Ariella, you’re the baddest on Earth,”
Baby… this is what your life savings is worth.

[Chorus]

Call me Ariella, lil’ bitch, I’m the moment (mhmm),
If he ain’t six figures then I don’t condone it (nope).
Pussy so good, made a millionaire moan it (say it louder),
Now he buyin’ me diamonds like I already own it (period).

Yeah, I’m bougie and I’m rude, but he like that flavor (yum),
Drop it on his face, now he call me his savior (praise me).
Ariella Sinclair your man’s favorite player,
Got him eating out my hand like I’m tipping the waiter.

Sinclair Status

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© Follow Lokam Music

Best Pop Mix 2025 New Mash Up Charts Music 2025| Best Remixes Of Popular Songs | Dance Top 100

Ariella Sinclair is not just an artist  she’s an era. A luxury brat with villainous charm, a club-dominating siren, and an unapologetically seductive force in the emerging world of EDM-pop rap fusion. Blending the high-fashion edge of a runway model with the raw attitude of City Girls and the razor-sharp wit of Cardi B, Ariella has crafted a persona that is equal parts glamorous, dangerous, and unforgettable.
Born from the chaos of late-night city lights and the opulence of old-money elegance, Ariella Sinclair Monroe grew up knowing two things: she was destined to take up space, and she was destined to take over rooms. Her artistry is a potent cocktail of bougie confidence, feminine rage, sexual dominance, and high-energy club hysteria  a sound that makes people scream the lyrics even when the bass is shaking the floor.
Musically, Ariella exists at the crossroads of trap, EDM, and pop, creating an addictive hybrid built for festivals, nightclubs, and luxury car sound systems. Her tracks feature pounding 808s, euphoric synth drops, seductive vocal whispers, and lyrical delivery that snaps like a designer whip. Her bars are playful, filthy, clever, expensive, and dripping with the self-worship that defines a woman who knows exactly what she brings to the table  and charges extra.

Her presence is as powerful as her sound. With her signature glossy lips, diamond-dripping aesthetic, and a walk that could shut down traffic, Ariella embodies high-heeled chaos. She’s relentless, magnetic, and unpredictable — a femme fatale who steals the spotlight as quickly as she steals attention (and occasionally, your man). To her fans, she’s the patron saint of bad decisions and good taste — a symbol of confidence, luxury, and sexual liberation.

Behind the glam, Ariella is a storyteller. Every song unfolds a chapter of the rich-girl fever dream she’s living — a world of VIP sections, midnight mischief, penthouse heartbreak, black Amex indulgence, and unapologetic self-indulgence. Her lyrics turn femininity into a weapon, pleasure into power, and beauty into a form of domination.

Her singles — including club-ready anthems like “Velvet Rage,” “Billionaire Bodycount,” “Marble Floors, Marble Men,” and “Midnight Maneater” — have cemented her as a rising voice in the global nightlife scene. Each release pushes the boundary between music and character, making Ariella not just someone you listen to, but someone you experience.

With a growing fanbase, a visually striking brand identity, and a fierce commitment to artistic expression, Ariella Sinclair is poised to become one of the defining female voices of the next wave of pop-rap fusion. She is unapologetic. She is unfiltered. She is unstoppable.

And she’s only getting started