Type of N***a

I just touched Miami and I got a new jwett
Me and Pk finna slide in a vette
That nigga fronting ps we got glocks in the back
If shit get fucked up I can stack a hundred racks
If yo homie got fucked up would you pick 'em up
Bows don't come in the mail
Keep 'em in the trunk
Little nigga pulled up for a gram boy that ain't enough
I just touched down in the yams tryna gleece some bucks

Brodie cleaned a Pound
Ima clean a plot
Nigga we been gleecing shit since green dot
When y'all mans went to jail how Y'all team stop
Free my niggas down the road we Bouta restock
It's 12:30 in Miami I'm finna fly to Oakland
The plug hit me last minute he gotta session open
Ima bring back some crud and Lindsay Lohan Niggas half of police telling in the moment
I just pray my nigga get paroled
I was setting prices low niggas let it get cold
Now you can't shop with Me cuz I broke the stove
Now it's time to stack this paper and reach my goals

I just touched Miami and I got a new jwett
Me and Pk finna slide in a vette
That nigga fronting ps we got glocks in the back
If shit get fucked up I can stack a hundred racks
If yo homie got fucked up would you pick 'em up
Bows don't come in the mail
Keep 'em in the trunk
Little nigga pulled up for a gram boy that ain't enough
I just touched down in the yams tryna gleece some bucks

Had to separate the real from the fake
Man these niggas hoes
how you only want the fame
Seen some hoe shit so I treat you like a lame
How you want the Benz you ain't even got the Range
How you got the glory nigga you ain't got the pain
I went through this shit nigga you went down the drain
Had to go through this shit and I had to lose
Took a big L you could never fit my shoes
I got the jwett I got nine hundred blues
Stay out the way I got nine hundred moves
You the type of nigga that'll tell when you lose
I'm the type of nigga that got mail coming through

I just touched Miami and I got a new jwett
Me and Pk finna slide in a vette
That nigga fronting ps we got glocks in the back
If shit get fucked up I can stack a hundred racks
If yo homie got fucked up would you pick 'em up
Bows don't come in the mail
keep 'em in the trunk
Little nigga pulled up for a gram boy that ain't enough
I just touched down in the yams tryna gleece some bucks



Credits
Writer(s): Ni'gheim Lyons
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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