Flippa T - Typa Bitch

Ain't that DJ Chose over there
Hmm, looks like DJ Chose
Flippa
On meeee
I'm the typa bitch that always get my lick back
You the typa bitch that always get yo wig snatched
I'm the typa bitch that smoking on my ex pack
You the typa bitch that always wanna back track
Went and got my masters, now these bitches mad mad
All my exes and my old friends, they sad sad
Doctor asked me how I walk around with all this ass
Told him same way how I walk around with all this cash
I had to kick him off the team, he was poppin' beans
Pussy bald, Mr. Clean, money tall, Yao Ming
What you smoking? Russian cream
Not my lover, Billie Jean
Nigga put it in my spleen, now I'm walking with a lean
Country bitch, I eat hot sauce on my catfish
I smoke that gas, bud sticky like a cactus
Gon' beat who ass? nah bitch I ain't no free pick
I'm shaking ass, you would think this shit was freaknik
Take his cash, I'm that typa bitch
Shake this ass, make it do a split
Down south, hoe yeah these bitches lit
Up nawf, hoes yeah them hoes legit
I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch
I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch
I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch
I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch
Got you bitches in a chokehold, you don't want no smoke hoe
Pussy drive, yo nigga loco, bounce on dick like pogo
I walk by his, dick gon' grow, hoe, thick bitch like Big Glo hoe
Man, I swear you niggas so slow, we don't fuck with Popo
Had to pull up to the corner store to get some Rellos
And a mellow yellow ass shakin' Jell-O
Niggas sayin' hello, weed got me mellow
Why you gotta stare tho, riding on a spare hoe

Written by:
Terranesha Bell

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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