lirik lagu baby money & peezy – this that typa
[intro]
(ayy, trell, i think we done over here)
yeah
what?
(you aren’t even a cool breeze for my man taz)
go, go
[verse 1: baby money]
this lil’ b~tch don’t know my name, she say she love me
i done flew her out the way, she say we f~cking
i done bought another plain, they told me bust it
it’s bloodshed, said i do this for my cousin
yeah, take a picture of it, it might last longer
i give ’em strikers, i got dummies that’ll crash for me
beefing with the reaper, church on sunday with that mag on me
lord forgive me
thirty underneath my shirt, my pants cost me forty~fifty
cop a lot, i drop the price, come and place an order with me
pick up cash in every hood, i’m tryna explore the city
almost on my second mill’, think it’s time to order richie
i’m ’bout to hit up elliott, spend a bag, and go missing
let’s make it known, ’cause your outfit cost a lot, it’s not crispy
let’s keep it grown, b~tch, you got on all rick, you not pretty, huh?
ask those ones who tried to slide, it was a failed mission
popping pills while i’m in my jail, in my cell, tripping
seventeen thousand was my pros, but my sales different
bad b~tches cooking, workin’ angel while in h~ll’s kitchen
[chorus: baby money & peezy]
this type of b~tch that make me say i love her
this type of b~tch that make me say, “let’s cuddle”
this type of risk that make tote the cutter, nah
this that type of money make her f~ck my brother, yeah, yeah
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— mhm
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m lit)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich, yeah)
this that type of— mhm (ghetto)
[verse 2: peezy]
this that type of pape’ that make the preacher wife come suck some d~ck
to get that pape’, i had to commit a couple sins, but i repent
gon’ get rich or die tryin’ around this b~tch like 50 cent
i got three links on, but we can’t link up, you broke as sh~t
so much ice on my right hand, you would think i sprained my wrist
i get so much f~cking green, i’m gary payton or shawn kemp
b~tches left when i was down bad, some sh~t i can’t forget
now i’m ridin’ brand new maybach, thinkin’, “should i paint this b~tch?”
b~tch just flew herself in, man, she can’t wait to get this d~ck
i might leave her at the room, man, i can’t wait to spin this b~tch
i just made two hundred fifty, i can’t wait to spend that sh~t
i don’t know what else to buy ’cause i got every color kit
i got every pair of ricks, i drove every kind of whip
it ain’t right to do it light, man, i’m heavy ’round this b~tch
you can’t even add me up, i got on too much sh~t
i’m the type to have this sh~t on and won’t even take a pic, yeah, yeah (ghetto)
[chorus: baby money]
this type of b~tch that make me say i love her
this type of b~tch that make me say, “let’s cuddle”
this type of risk that make tote the cutter, nah
this that type of money make her f~ck my brother, yeah, yeah
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— mhm
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m lit)
this that type of— (b~tch, i’m rich)
this that type of— mhm
[outro]
(you recordin’, smerf?)
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