MarcoMoney & 2000baby - Typa Rapper

Go and make that money don't let it make you
Nowadays when people say i love you
That shit really mean i hate you
I'm the type to pull up with the mac But not no baked food
Nah i'm the type to come through with a sack
But i'm not Ray Lew
Why the police think it's water in my cup but it's grey goose
Sike ion even drink no liquor i just drank juice
Out in Cali throwin hunnits in the sand like my name Juice
I ain't Jimi Hendrix but i'm from the six and i make blues
Dubs in my pocket stacked up like i can't lose
You the typa rapper post a video get fake views
Nah you the typa rapper in yo video have fake tool
You the typa rapper that be cappin tellin' fake news
Ridin' with some sticks in the whip but this ain't bamboo
I been thinking bout a trip me and my bitch might go to Cancun
All my old hoes mad they keep saying i act brand new
I know that i'm the one but they doubted me like Cam Newt
I got bread and wheat ain't talking Timberlands
These ain't tan Boots
They know I keep a gun
So please don't get me in a bad mood
And way before a nigga went to loot bitch I had loot
Way before a nigga had to choose a bitch swear I had two
I been havin you other niggas Ben Simmons
Cause y'all can't shoot
And everything around me seem fake so the cash rules
You the type of rapper post a pic and get fake likes
Naw you type the rapper get no shine and try to take mine
You the type of rapper get in fonk and try to FaceTime
I'm the type of rapper pop up on you in the day time
You the type of rapper hella scared to come and play dice
You the type of rapper
Run up outta bars and say the same line

Written by:
Damarco Williams, Jaden Locke

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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