This is a song about "I got no type"

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

I'll roundhouse you into a fucking basket

Got a electrical eel type spit

Because there ain't no coming back from that

I know their type, they're fucking petrified

Was he stressing you, wasn’t fucking you right

Harder than my dick when taylor swift is in my basement

I got the type of bump that make a bitch wanna hump

Why they try to see my flow, but they know that's outta sight

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

Just trying to go somewhere and play with europe players

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

I know their type, they're fucking petrified

By any means necessary get campaign right

No monopoly type flow, no chance

From the jungle, fam, where niggas bundle grams