Typa Dude

Yeah, you can't talk up on me if you don't know the truth Really, all you bitches lame yeah I don't f*ck with you Benji, he's still my best friend, I love my paper blue Your brother told, so you gon' tell you that type of dude Listen, I'ma open up some heads with my brand new chop Tell him, go ahead and take that vest, cause that ain't were I shot He said, we can go up two for two, I know just what you got If I pull up with my bitch, then her Birkin got a Glock He don't really want to beef with you, what now he a opp Go and spin it like a washer, bub, you need be on his block We all know that shit, a rental boy Ain't shit that you bought He said, we don't ever stand on shit, won't you call Lamont Yeah, won't you ask your mama how she feel, her son a thug Damn, did I hurt your feelings Won't you ask her for a hug You be puffin' on that roach, why you smokin' out on bugs You be puttin on personas, damn, enough is enough Yeah, you can't talk up on me if you don't know the truth Really, all you bitches lame, I don't f*ck with you Benji he my best friend Yeah, I love my paper blue And your brother told so, you gon' tell You that type of dude We gon' spin up on him after night, yeah, we wearin' all black I got VVs on my neck with my brother in the back He gon' run up to the car, I got the Glock up in my lap He was trollin' on the internet, now he can't even laugh Damn, hold on, brother, he just hit his hoes line Hung em out to dry, shit you'd thought we got a clothesline And you're shorty', she an addict, shit, she just wanna nose dive Give her like two Gs for the lo, damn, it's been a good night Yeah, you can't talk up on me if you don't know the truth Really, all you bitches lame, I don't f*ck with you Benji he my best friend I love my paper blue And your brother told so you gon' tell You that type of dude Damn, you that type of dude Damn, you that type of dude Yeah I ain't ask no questions, cause I know it from the jump You a bum How you call the cops on shit you did for fun Yeah, you run Boy you did me greasy, come and get your ones Yeah Yeah, my brother turned into a desert way that he gon' work a heater That bitch still ain't got no ass, she wearin' leopard, you believe her They like Trenton ' why you swingin shit, I guess I was just too eager Someone come and put a bullet on him, let's go call the Reaper Yeah, you can't talk up on me if you don't know the truth Really, all you bitches lame, I don't f*ck with you Benji, he my best friend I love my paper blue And your brother told,so you gon' tell You that type of dude