This is a song about "You the type"

Puts the pieces of decomposing bodies in plastic

You know the type of bitches that fell in love with that glass dick

Those the type of people who can't wait to get you gone

I know the world gets cold and the days get long

Truths are cloudy and i believe the stereo type

I just think we need one night, can't decide if i came right

World play? shit, bust out the type writer

Quick to grab the fifth and just fire

Produce the type of rhyme to give you bumpy epidermis

Gotta get back to the d, you know we finally famous

Let me cash you out , here hold this

You the type to satisfy my fetish

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

The type of shit that you don't have to asked who produced it

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

And for the time being lets me in love with the moment