'Til the day I go fed, I'ma get me some bread

I done really got fed up with ****

Ain't the type to go drop me no bag on your head

I'm the type to go head up with **** (Go head up with ****)

(We blowin' up)

'Til the day I go fed, I'ma get me some bread

I done really got fed up with ****

Ain't the type to go drop me no bag on your head

I'm the type to go head up with ****

Ain't the type to go wave me no flag, call a truce

I'm the type to go pour me a deuce

Ain't the type

Ain't the type

Ain't the type

I'ma ride for my dog and I know he ain't right

I be gone off the drugs, out of mind, out of sight

When I put on my jewelry, it's like they cut on the light

I'ma gone make that car hit that cutter on sight

That's a KOS on it, that mean kill him on sight

In the 392 me and lil' whoopty-woo

He got excellent aim, he don't miss when he shoot

Told that bitch that she gotta be the best in the school

She got excellent brain, she know just what to do

Take him a brain

He professional, too

He get paid for them bodies, that's what he like to do

Goin' all in, how the fuck can I lose?

I just poured me deuce in a blue Mountain Dew

I used to trap out of apartment, now I spend a condo, and got a department

I'm with all of that shit, yeah, they know what it do

And I been like this here, I ain't got nothin' to prove

I'm not the type, I'm not of them ****

And you won't hear me talkin' 'bout none of them ****

You might hear 'bout me walkin' on one of them ****

I ain't lyin' though

Black Boy the topic they always be lyin' on

These **** gossip like they in the church house

I ain't doin' shit, but tryna put this lil' work out

'Bout to O.D. off drink, tried to get this lil' burp out

Got it all out the mud, ****, we went the dirt route

Still puttin' down

You didn't have a bag, we ain't hurtin' now

Probably sold more chicken than Popeyes

Just ate some spinach, my weight up

Make sure I'm tippin' the waiter

Told that lil' ho I can't wait on her

I don't really like the ho, just like the face on her

I'm still with Cap 'cause I know he gon' face somethin'

You know I'm still onto Cap everyday don't it?

Trap through the day, then we pop out at night, and I'm strikin'

392 growl like some thunder

I drunk an eighth in a day

I just made me a play, and my trap doin' OKC Thunder

I can't make no play if it don't got a comma

Yeah, I'm that ****, I'm through being hungry

Yeah, that's his bitch, but she do what I want her

I'm not the type, don't be pushin' up on me

Don't be pushin' up on me, I'm pushin' that button

I just put a lil' switch on this Glock 23

Put some 'za in the wood

Put my some lean in my cup

Put a **** in the dirt if he playin' with me

I can't answer my phone

Girl, you know how to trap, I be doin' it

Why you trippin'? You know what I'm doin'

In the trap, I'm bisexual, I'm sellin' that girl and that boy

And get me some money

What the hell is you doin'?

I ain't come to the party, I'm the one sent the party pack, I'm just waitin' for my money back

I can't front the lil' **** know more better come with that

He must think he a runnin' back?

Got the hellcat, now, this bitch shoot like a thunder cat, make a **** do jumpin' jacks

Yeah, he tryna get out of there, we gon' hit his scratch off tryna get out of there

When they pick up the pack, tell 'em, "Get out of here"

I make one more hit track, ****, we out of here

I got five percent tint on the front and the back when I ride, shit, I barely can see out of here

I walked through the door talkin' 'bout them band

Told 'em, "Ayy, I'm just tryna get a B out of here"

Walked in my spot this bitch look like a buffet

You got into hustle, it's all you can eat out of here

I drink lean out the beer

I play him sweet, got him thinkin' it's Kool-Aid

All these choppers I got ain't no fugue

AR with a hundred round drum

I've been spinnin' with the same clip for two days

I got AR with me

You might think he trippin', he been tryna tie a **** shoe lace

I'ma walk 'em down in some Dolce & Gabbanas, I ain't even tied the shoe lace

Trap through the day, then we pop out at night, and I'm strikin'

392 growl like some thunder

I drunk an eighth in a day

I just made me a play, and my trap doing OKC Thunder

I can't make no play if it don't got a comma

Yeah, I'm that ****, I'm through being hungry

Yeah, that's his bitch, but she do what I want her

I'm not the type, don't be pushin' up on me

Don't be pushin' up on me, I'm pushin' that button

I just put a lil' switch on this Glock 23

Put some 'za in the wood

Put my some lean in my cup

Put a **** in the dirt if he playin' with me

I can't answer my phone

Girl, you know how to trap, I be doin' it

Why you trippin'? You know what I'm doin'

In the trap, I'm bisexual, I'm sellin' that girl and that boy

And get me some money

What the hell is you doin'?

Trap through the day, then we pop out at night, and I'm strikin'

392 growl like some thunder