This is a song about "I ain t got no type"

Ain t happenin!!! you bitches faker then 8 mannequins

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

Now look: the change has come

I wouldn´t diss my own mum,

For real, a nigga ill

You say i got no skill?

The pioneer of the coke rap

No receipt nigga i got that

I got a blaze, no faint fire

Fast forward spillin' drinks on her fur

I ain't got no money,

Its a war with the enemy

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

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

Account overdraft what i got this debit for

Now i got no stress just love and there's no pressure