Letras My Type - Pee Wee Longway

My Type

My type\nKnow that shit my type, man\nMy type of bitch, my type of cash, everything\nHuh, why niggas look mad?\nY’all niggas could be happy, man (What the fuck wrong with these niggas, man?)\nA nigga like y’all wanna stay down, stay fucked up\nWhat’s up? (Go)\n'Fore I snitch, I might well drop dead and stop breathing\nIt’s time for fish fries and white bread and more grieving\nIt’s too many real niggas out here with loose hoes like my last case\nIt’s too many new niggas ain’t had no hoes, so they skirt chase\nA goofy with money don’t know what to do with the real paper\nI send them steppers, they comin' to move it, they real takers\nI know money make a baby bills on four hundred babies\nReal crack baby, you’d think they Haiti babies\nIt’s too many niggas, they claimin' they real, they really cooperating\nSnitchin' and work for the feds for real like they givin' out applications\nThe judge be screamin' out so many years, he turned to an asthma patient\nThem blue tips took off so many limbs, his mama like, «That my baby?»\nI reserved the ICU, they screamin' out, «Doctor, he gon' make it»\nHe got brothers, he got sisters, that’s my mama’s youngest baby\nHe his mama baby now, but he was Tay-K with that AK\nI’m like Bumpy, I get birds jumpin', trap house, make it Nae Nae\nI mix fetty with a brick of boy, it’s still ten grade A\nWatch how you talkin', heard they with them boys, snitchin', they cooperate\nI act like an operator, M-A-T or zero one\nCan’t reach me now, so call me later, I just pray she be the one\nI treat these hoes like Now and Later\nBust the pack and pick the flavor\nLemon squeeze the Terminator\nRats and roach exterminator\nSpin on the world like we the equator\nTold you, got so many flavors, I’m servin' the world like a waiter, no apron\nAnd that’s how we trappin', nigga\nI told that bitch if she don’t get wet like water, she ain’t my type\nI told my girl to blow be in the Sprinter 'cause that other shit not my type\nI just told that bitch I like her, she know she ain’t my type\nI only like her when I’m geeked and rollin', she know she ain’t my type\nI put my dick in anything, don’t believe the hype\nI beat them walls up, that pussy ain’t got no fight in it\nI’m the sergeant, I’m the general, I’m the lieutenant\nI’m the big dog, I’m the Hov with the blueprint\nTold my nigga, «Light his soul like an incense»\nHomie said, «Fuck parole, I’ll go back again»\nRevoked the whole time, then I bought my own pen'\nAin’t never told on a nigga for a reduced bid\nI’ll spin again like I’m DJ Whoo Kid\nAin’t never been a pig, I do video vids\nAll these niggas cap so much, I think they work for Lids\nI done made a cap so much, got zaza just like mid\nIf sauce make a bitch walk, I’m the kid did\nYou wanna see a dead body? Go and get the SIG\nSnitches drop a lot of salt, don’t talk 'bout what you did\nI call the lil' bitch gargle mouth, she sucked up all my kids\nChristian Dior drip, but I spent two racks on a wig\nRest in peace to Flippa, yeah, my steppers still my wig\nAyy, I put pointers in my Carti', twenty racks on my eyelid\nMy lil' bitch like be a Barbie, she runnin' 'round the lobby\nPerky baby, arch it, baby, couldn’t tell no nobody\nForgis, I don’t do Rucci coochie, skrrt-skrrt on the 'Rari\nSend your addy, watch me wrap it, ship it, touchdown come tomorrow\nIn the pot, I make it skrrt-skrrt, yeah, the brick taste calamari\nTold that bitch to hit my phone, frrt, I’m the real deal\nShe ask me what I’m booted on, this a real pill\nI went Johnny Dang cryin' jewels, that’s a half a mill'\nI went Wafi like a damn fool, spent a couple mill'\nTold 'em Birkin bag the tote, Bottega slides on the shoes\nYoung nigga COVID mad, spin the block again, make the news, hit it\nI told that bitch if she don’t get wet like water, she ain’t my type\nI told my girl to blow be in the Sprinter 'cause that other shit not my type\nI just told that bitch I like her, she know she ain’t my type\nI only like her when I’m geeked and rollin', she know she ain’t my type