TYPE C Lyrics

Way too many stories, I don't see no author

I got a iPhone, but need a C-type charger

Bitch, I'm known to handle killers, call me Chris Scarver

She can't even handle it At the dispensary when I get talking to her

Now I'm over here sampling In the car cut lights, I'm vanishing

Window go up and the diamonds dancing

Like, "where'd they learn that shit?"

You drive that car, you don't deserve that shit

Ayy, see my tints

Window go up and the diamonds hit

Ayy, run up on the goddamn clique

Ayy, window go down, gun click Yeah, all of this off of the Rip

5-5-5, got spider on me And low-key, more than the rain

When I flood these streets Low-key, with the way that I stay in the field

I need some cleats I feel like a bear

I be getting the honey, but fighting the bees Ayy, when I talk about Gs

Nigga, shut up, you are not like me

Wipe them tears, it's not that deep

You wouldn't wanna see the shit that I see in my sleep

Tryna catch a bag, you cannot even catch your shadow

If you cannot tell, I rapped the shit after smoking gelato

Yeah, step by step through the cemetery Only noise you hear is me

Shaking my arm cause my wrist a little heavy Now that I said it, well, evidently

All the ghosts are here and I'm grabbing on my lefty

Target Practice bitch, I'm shooting ghosts in my dreams

Remember what I said, you wouldn't wanna see what I see in my sleep

Take it back to reality, for real, like, actually

Only thing coming back is my wrist still heavy

Way too many stories in this building, world is turning

On my dish, yo, bank limit they serving And big-body, bulletproof insurgent

Scam check, I be selling like a merchant

Snakes in the grass, cut heads off serpents

Claim you got flow, you don't swim with the current

I'm paying your rent, but instead on insurance I fuck on your bitch and now she reassuring

Did she mean to cheat? I'm sure

I'm bringing it all back to earth

Ayy, BFL, you heard her first