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"The Type" lyrics by CURREN$Y
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[a.k.a. SPITTA ANDRETTI]


"The Type"
[feat. Prodigy]


[Curren$y:]
Let the lil homie kick it in the auto shop with us
Long as he can make store runs and keep his mouth shut
Same way I came up
All my triple O's was hood famous
Nice guys surrounded by wolves, wild dangerous
That's where I gained this cool
Walk this talk, you trying to duplicate and make tools
All you do is make fools of yourselves
Underground jewels testa, copping pot, wallet in the wishing well
Evidence, niggas den failed
Tryna get close to the Jet code
But it will never get deciphered by a rookie pilot
That's why I sit opposite to driver, 63 impala bad bitch
Change steering wheel guidence
I'm out the window sky watching, plotting as usual
That's what I'm doing when I'm quite
Can't remember shorty name but she had that loud pack
The other night in Tallahasse and I thank her for that
Fine, freaky, sending snaps with her legs behind her back
In the wee hours of the morning, picture mailin that she horny
But love I'm tryna fuck with this money

[Chorus:]
We bust raps like d-boys bust gats, we the type of people that don't burry the axe
We bust raps like d boys bust gats, we the type of people cutluss, monte carlo, regals
We bust raps like d-boys bust gats, we the type of people that don't burry the axe
We bust raps like d boys bust gats, we the type of people cutluss, monte carlo, regals

We bust raps like we bust these gats, we the type that don't bury the hatch
We bust raps like we bust these gats, we the type of people chevy's and gmc's too
We bust raps like we bust these gats, we the type that don't bury the hatch
We bust raps like we bust these gats, we the type of people chevy's and gmc's too

[Prodigy:]
Fuck it, it's the life of the shooting star
Gotta move smart
Can't get caught slipping there all wanna see me fall
Take my punches like a troopa but take my loses like a man
It come with the territory, take the good with the bad
Throw the dice watch them tumble where they land, so be it
Everything is not strategic, sometime we risk our life
Sometime we risk our love, our money and our freedom
That bullshit we feed it, to see if you gone eat it
In new york we manipulate naive dummies
We beat you on the head it's just game we be running
Sometime, but most of the time we don't play
They can't figure us out, we like it that way
The road to the riches so long our feet catch blisters on our feet
All these crabs in a bucket pull you down tryna get up
Every man for them self, every women want bags and shoes
We the type of people that'll find you

[Thanks to Terrance Jones for these lyrics]
[Thanks to Sherylyn (s_plummer8888@yahoo.com), Donny Sosa for correcting these lyrics]

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