This is a song about "You the type"

Called that bitch my quaterback, wild cat all that

You seem the type to get easily offended,

And i'll show you all type of bitches

Through the grapevine yeah they diss diss

I'm not the type of interviews

Zero options to choose

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

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

And then along came the wrong man for her

World play? shit, bust out the type writer

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

But i'm giving it foundation when i write lyric