Ain't My Type
Boss Mode bitch
Level
From the R.I.P
I came up from the R.I.P
Now I got that Shaq
I got so much drip
I could take a bath
Came up from the dip
I ain't going back
Everything I flip
It's like I flipped a pack, yeah
Bustin'
My wrist, my wrist
Bustin'
Bustin'
My wrist, my crib
Bustin'
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
I don't play ain't no games, please don't risk your life
I won't tame, I'm insane off the chain for life
Don't rile me up
I'm wild as fuck
You think she cuffed
You think you tough
I got a lot but talked to God and he gon' give me some more
My work robotic, I don't stop it 'til my circuit'll blow
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
Okay next
Not impressed
She don't fuck the first night, I don't text
I play chess
Me complex
Her pussy so wet, S.O.S
I got so much icing from my cake, yeah
Temp could hit 200 and I'd prolly be okay, yeah
She think that she crashin' here, I tell her hit the brakes, yeah
Tomorrow's scheduled, plus Uber's on the way, yeah, bye
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
Level
From the R.I.P
I came up from the R.I.P
Now I got that Shaq
I got so much drip
I could take a bath
Came up from the dip
I ain't going back
Everything I flip
It's like I flipped a pack, yeah
Bustin'
My wrist, my wrist
Bustin'
Bustin'
My wrist, my crib
Bustin'
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
I don't play ain't no games, please don't risk your life
I won't tame, I'm insane off the chain for life
Don't rile me up
I'm wild as fuck
You think she cuffed
You think you tough
I got a lot but talked to God and he gon' give me some more
My work robotic, I don't stop it 'til my circuit'll blow
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
Okay next
Not impressed
She don't fuck the first night, I don't text
I play chess
Me complex
Her pussy so wet, S.O.S
I got so much icing from my cake, yeah
Temp could hit 200 and I'd prolly be okay, yeah
She think that she crashin' here, I tell her hit the brakes, yeah
Tomorrow's scheduled, plus Uber's on the way, yeah, bye
Bitch you ain't my type
Please don't call my phone again
I got too lit on the hype
I don't do no low end
I got all this fuckin' ice
It replaced my old friends
And I'm just being polite
But just know I won't 'gain
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Novak
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.