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letra de never been the type freestyle - dna tru lyricist

[intro]
yeah, i figured i’d do this one
since i am up early out my casket, you feel me?
hah
i know there’s a lot of types out there, huh
got these dudes rollin’ around jammin’ r&b, and sh-t
we got these motherf-ckers who love that so-called “swag” sh-t
f-ck swag
i ain’t never been the type, you feel me?
let’s go, uh

[verse]
i never been the type to ride around and jam love sh-t
but that don’t mean that i can’t love sh-t, i love this
this sick sh-t, stirrin’ ’em like bisquick
leavin’ ’em with their wrist slit, f-ckin’ with mе
my baby mama jammed some love sh-t on halloween, wе got in a fight over that sh-t
f-ck you mean? i’m gettin’ out of this car and i’m takin’ this baby with me
she better off with me anyway
i seen her plenty days, when’s the last time you showed your face? no place
nowhere to be found, you ain’t got no taste, b-tch
i’m motherf-ckin’ chillin’ on it, yet still i’m on it
she say “i’ll make you sink to your stomach” “b-tch, i’ll make you spill your vomit”
feel the comet comin’ at you, this is deep impact
when i send a verse back, i don’t leave a single person intact
i been bad, this ain’t no comedy like sinbad
i sin bad, makin’ ’em break like a thin bag
end that piece of sh-t verse you been writin’
i been lyin’ out on an aircraft swing and then divin’
five-thousand leagues into the sea, then enticin’
jaws to run, and aquaman to give up his trident
do you think you could think of wordplay like that? they’re still tryin’
i thin-slice a beef jerky colombian bison, i mean honey bison
what more do they want? the money’s risin’
yet still i can’t get a commission, yet still you want me tryin’, sayin’ “hi”
and askin’ if they want a free sample
i hope texas best smokehouse goes out like a green candle
i got mean handles when i’m on that like kareem campbell
and i know my brother got that medal for obscene [?]
droppin’ on everyone else like [?]
while he be in the dust of my grr meep-meep
takin’ off like road runner like meep-meep ny-nyoom-nyoom
somebody thinkin’ they’re bringin’ it better than mine, what you gon’ do- do?
you can’t fu- fumes -umes with my fu- fu- f-ck stick
huck this, puck-puck, b-tch, i f-ck ’em up quick
so shut your f-cked lips, you can’t get with this
this ripgut sick sh-t, cannibalistic
can i get stati- stati- stic? come close
i run off, i disappear like a ghost
i am the paranormal activity
grab an axe and whack his head like it’s a wicker tree
’cause i’m the wickerman, i don’t know of a sicker man
if you can find a sicker man, i stick a man with a knife in hand
knife in hand, slicin’ ’em, it’s excitin’ when i’m doin’ it
i’m chewin’ it, spewin’ it, who knew it’s the crudest sh-t?
who knew it’s the rudest? balloons blowin’ up like (-boom-) and sh-t
and this the sh-t, this the sh-t you been waitin’ for, pixy stix
fairy dust, motherf-ckin’ fun dip b-tches
come get tickets to my f-ckin’ funhouse, b-tches
tongue gets wicked- wicked- wicked
if- if- if it- jiminy cri- crickets
i am the si- sickest in the funhouse
don’t bring along your dumb spoues
she’ll end up drunk on the couch before i rip her lungs out
i’ll leave you spun out, walkin’ through my hamster wheel, i’m amped to k!ll
get sn-tched by the cold hands of steel
f-ck the man of steel, i’m a zod-like demon
that’s feignin’ to leave you tied up in the trunk of a tanned slim deville
cadillac coupe deville, shoot to k!ll, uzi spillin’ bucket sh-lls
i mean buckets of blood and bullet sh-lls
i’m pullin’ sh-lls back with dylan, the hidden doors of h-ll
“[?]” oh well, you’re gettin’ wrecked by a broke-ass sob
so help me if i let a millionaire flow as dope as me
you better hope the key fits the lock, you’re tellin’ me to set you free?
to let you free, you’re gonna need one h-ll of a skeleton key
to reread the pelican brief, this visit won’t be brief
you won’t be able to breathe when i take you on the k!lling spree funhouse coaster ride
you poser, i oughta rip you up out of your overalls
it’s over, i told you it’s over, why?
i’m override, i’m overk!ll, i’m overwilling to k!ll you
what the f-ck will you do? (what you gon’ do?)
know what i’ll do? (what’s that?)
huh i’m not the type, i’ll take you out dude (take ’em out, b-tch)
[outro]
hah, i’m not the type
i’m not the type, motherf-cker, i’m not the type to f-ck with
(way too motherf-ckin’ unorthodox)

- dna tru lyricist

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