This is a song about "Feeling a type of way"

They start feeling like a fish, that's out of water,

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

Cause she's playing both roles like her occupation was dyke, fucking right

Im a stoner, yeah, but im not a fucking hype, i just smoke weed of any type,

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

Watching my vehicle break down on another man's block

And we type of niggas that'll smash and pass a hoe

And all this snow, i call it infant sorrow

Cause you the type of bitch that will trip over a stump,

Niggas get down for the moment, they ain't for movement

Yo yo, type fast, i dip dabs, having a laugh, taking a blast, of smoke,

Vicious roach she really sick of this but she let me poke

That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle

Your the type of hater that ends up floatin 6ft deep at the bottom of a barrel