Typa Bitch Lyrics

Ain't that DJ Chose over there

Hmm, looks like DJ Chose

Flippa

On meeee

I'm the typa bitch that always get my lick back

You the typa bitch that always get yo wig snatched

I'm the typa bitch that smoking on my ex pack

You the typa bitch that always wanna back track

Went and got my masters, now these bitches mad mad

All my exes and my old friends, they sad sad

Doctor asked me how I walk around with all this ass

Told him same way how I walk around with all this cash

I had to kick him off the team, he was poppin' beans

Pussy bald, Mr. Clean, money tall, Yao Ming

What you smoking? Russian cream

Not my lover, Billie Jean

Nigga put it in my spleen, now I'm walking with a lean

Country bitch, I eat hot sauce on my catfish

I smoke that gas, bud sticky like a cactus

Gon' beat who ass? nah bitch I ain't no free pick

I'm shaking ass, you would think this shit was freaknik

Take his cash, I'm that typa bitch

Shake this ass, make it do a split

Down south, hoe yeah these bitches lit

Up nawf, hoes yeah them hoes legit

I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch

I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch

I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch

I'm that typa bitch, yeah I'm that typa bitch

Got you bitches in a chokehold, you don't want no smoke hoe

Pussy drive, yo nigga loco, bounce on dick like pogo

I walk by his, dick gon' grow, hoe, thick bitch like Big Glo hoe

Man, I swear you niggas so slow, we don't fuck with Popo

Had to pull up to the corner store to get some Rellos

And a mellow yellow ass shakin' Jell-O

Niggas sayin' hello, weed got me mellow

Why you gotta stare tho, riding on a spare hoe