Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jacob B
Songwriter
Lyrics
This the type of beat that I could shit on
You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on
I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms
I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong
This the type of beat that I could shit on
You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on
I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms
I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong
Ten twenty thirty bitches all up on my blocklist
I like girls with glasses 'cause they can't see that I'm not shit
She flexing her watch what they don't know is that I bought it
Her new man pull up with a chopstick damn that bitch so toxic
I got hunnid's in my stash I want hunnid's and I want fifty's now
No I ain't showing no love no I can never show no pity now
Think she a dub no she ain't foreign from the city aye
Think I'm in love SIKE! We can't talk fuck a committee aye
I be feeling like I'm Will Smith the way that my shit slap
People talking bitches talking they finna get bitch slapped
I'm chasing mula I'm the ruler got money got big stacks
You can't let them do that shit to you go hit yo lick back
This the type of beat that I could shit on
This the type of beat that I could shit on
This the type of beat that I could shit on
This the type of, aye aye
This the type of beat that I could shit on
You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on
I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms
I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong
This the type of beat that I could shit on
You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on
I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms
I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong
Told my brother that it's money over hoes
And he keep a tool he work at Lowe's
Let her where my chain and then she froze
And she lucky she the one I chose
P.O.V ima get this money
G.O.D I know he love me
If I respond then she lucky
Told that bitch no she can't judge me
I can't be fucked with fuck a hater fuck a opp
If she go out every weekend then she a thot
I want Sally I want Vicky I want Susie
My exes hate me they so picky and they choosy
Bro get to poppin' shit choppin' shit like he Bruce Lee
And my heart been broke 'cause all these bitches wanna use me
I'm goin' through a lot
Tryna chase a bag but I ain't ever tryna do a lot
Why they speakin' on my name I ain't ever tryna go do too much
But now I'm taking W's shit I used to lose too much
I used to lose too much
I used to lose too much
Used to lose too much
I used to lose too much
Writer(s): Jacob Bengson
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