This is a song about "Ballin like i dont got no type"

I'm on the run, keep running

I dont see no people coming

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

I am spitting rhymes out like i am a type of robot

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

We be ballin' hard nigga, we dont teach lessons.

Wet willy shit, pussy i need a minute

I got the whole damn world on this shoe type of shit

I'm fuckin witchu but i love them bitches you know i'm gettin more cut than nip tuck

Got your bitch in her thong no bra on. bout to beat that pussy up, man i dont give a fuck.

I told him confused that she didnt seem like the evil type

She won't leave, dick as big as kelly price's appetite

And i move across your membrane, you loose against my insane

I got no shame but i got blood like game and i'll be rapping best to main

See what i type im flying with no pauses cos i learnt to write

Yeah this the illest bitch alive, i love her freaky side