No Typing

I ain't got no type

But when I met rapping it was love at first write

Oh I ain't gotta type

I'll spell it out in blood if you challenge my might

Rap with malice and I might

yeah, take off your head, stick it on a spike

oh just outta spite

like you just outta sprite

and I'ma hoodrat who need the codeine right

now I don't want no fight

no but i will throw hands if that is what you like

I'm sorry for the wait, till I make the Mixtape fire

And if i do get fired

Just hope that fire takes me so much higher

than high school could

I'm in high class hoods

Eating high price foods

Checking my phone when I get those hot ass nudes

And if you ain't sending nudes or money what the fuck are you doing

ohh I don't need no mic

I'll change the fucking world with every sentence that i write

Oh I may be white

I'll make enough money by my own fucking flight

Oh oh oh

I'm unseen, ultraviolet light

ah ah ah ah

I shoot clean, through telescopic sight

bang bang bang

I roll green, that gardeners delight

From your screen comes my dream, sweetness and light

From your scream I can glean, you have seen my might

and if I'm sheen by my queen and you know I might

Buy the whole plane and have a fucking private flight

First rule of Mile high fuck club, is

don't talk about it

oh don't tweet about it

oh don't geek about it

oh no need to text about it

I don't care if your buddy got a body

If you tell her what he did then R I P about it

I won't beat around it

I'll just beat my charges

and then get up out it

(I'll beat it)

My pull out game weak so I rock a condom

while I rock her body

Hard in the paint like I'm Waka's body

Roc a fella and then toss his body

Into a fucking quarry

and then fucking call me

Ohhh I ain't got no type

But when I met rapping it was love at first write

Oh I ain't gotta type

I'll spell it out in blood if you challenge my might