Type Nigga

Ayo,
Look,
Who they call the hardest
Well my pen would know
I write the hardest verses
But that's just how it goes
We ain't playing ball
But I'm on a roll
I call these niggas fiends
The way they wanting more
Basically I body all these niggas on a basic beat
When he get the clippers only time this nigga fading me
I call it how I see it so it's never no debating me
And if he wanna run it, ima hit em where his temple be
Solo 3's on my motherfucking eardrums
Ain't a nigga hotter shit I had to make it clear, umm
Lotta nigga pussy, where the balls cause they need some
Only me, myself and I, the only time I'm doing threesomes

Yo
Pretty pretty pretty
Yea this waist is itty bitty
Got these niggas busting faster than Montana with a semi
Oh he love me, I say really?
Yea they subbing like they Jimmy
I don't understand the math, you drop a dime and get a penny nigga?

What nigga that you know gone spit like this
Yo friends still wish that could clique like this
Old nigga see me post, he gon click on this
Like what nigga wouldn't wanna come freak on this

Gimme any type of beat and ima rip it up
Christmas lights on the tree the way I lit it up
Ain't talking toys when I say I'm finna figure up
He ain't running track but that nigga still the runner up
Get on the beat with me & I'ma wash you
Ion baby niggas, I never would Osh Kosh you
Fucking with the goat, believe that it's gone cost you
I'm the prize baby, you never could say I lost you
Drip like water
Them still hoes complain but it's doesn't matter
Ive been in the gym and this ass got fatter
This nigga play with sticks like he Harry Potter
Boy fuck yo offer
I got a couple son I foster
Got em seeing red, finna cook em like Lobster
Showing fake love, niggas hate when you prosper
But when you make it big they supporting you after

When this pen hit the paper, this that inky flow
Before I put the tip back in, I use my pinky though
This tongue is long but you gone love this slinky though
The way these niggas got it twisted you would think they sew
I think he slow for thinking that I didn't know
I gotta keep it honest with you, not the type to troll
He hate my guts but he still see me when he scroll
If he ain't got the same drive then he gots to go
Like (Beep beep)

Steering wheel in my left hand
Roll it up, hit the joint from my right hand
How the fuck you gone tell me who's the right man
When you're the one who was fucking on his right hand
Make em feel it, put that leg up on the nightstand
Ion know why these niggas got you hype man
Cause honestly I ain't never need a hype man
Heard me talk my shit and now he thinking I'm his type man