This is a song about "Got no type"

I'll show you there's a few good left that exist

I'm too busy doin the type of shit that got gotti killed

They napped and slept on me, man, i hate black

No receipt nigga i got that

Got no disabilities like other aborigines

But for now just roll it up and just become one with the breeze

What a mess! but we clean in the club

There’s no looking out, got cut,

Contributing the real shit

Got a electrical eel type spit

But you hate them navel kisses

Dont got time for no bitches,

I guzzle up at the bar

Got a license, no car

But i ain't got no weed, no phillies, or no papers

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years