(Typ iLL Verse One)
I got a question for you haters, check
What you mad at me for? 'Cause ya'll ain't made it yet?
Ill never sweat it you can bet that I deal with the hate
I'm multi-talented, Ill figure 4 your who*e while doing figure 8's
Seven figure my dinner plate, I bee hungry from get go
Heaven sent to the sinners place, I been coming, God said so
Up and coming a winners place, I been running since first breath
Ok Ok, really though, I been running since first step
T Y P in this b**h and I got to make this verse worth it
Not an option to drop me, go cop me, I'm worth the purchase
Hustled to make my first check, muscle flexing on benches
Military minded, tryna survive in these trenches
I realize that my time is now, come find me and sign me now
My quality's top shelf, 'cause quantity burns me out
Insomnia got me writing perfection, I need this
Point proven, wrote this joint last week I ain't sleep yet
Swing s**a
(Hook)
You got a problem with me? You want a piece of me?
Its not a question, these mother f**as ain't seeing me
Too many haters made me, me, not worried about it
Too many tough guys won't swing, they scared about it
Swing s**a, Sw-Swing s**a (yea)
Swing s**a, Sw-Swing s**a (uh huh)
Swing s**a, Sw-Swing s**a
s**a s**a... Take your best shot
(Ali Vegas Verse 2)
Give me a steal mic, Ill show you I'm the iLL Typ
Its so wrong that critics think that i still write
My lyrics just feel like,that i can take off and land of mars
Whenever I feel like
You sitting on the block, I be whipping in a drop like you pissing in a pot
Flowing sick over sick beats is a sickness that I got
Y'all make songs to listen to
Me, I make lyrics n***as watch
So swing s**a, my and my Queens nukkas
Looking for a reason to dirty up our clean chuckas
Never disrespect my prime
This what happens when you start comparing me and just let me rhyme
Who got a problem, we solve 'em
We either carve or revolve 'em, once them bullets get lodged in
You seen them goons and them goblins
Start looking for Sergeants, Pointing out Typ & Veg and the rest of the squadron
HOOK
(Typ iLL Verse 3)
I got a question for you non believers disguised as supporters
Asking how the rapping's doing, claiming that you're in my corner
I got no corners, I move with a circle holding a virtue
We business minded, we grinding, interfere and i will hurt you
Ill murk you until you purple
Exert you until burn to me verbal beyond your purview
You gerbil, ain't no one heard you
Including your girl tripping, I'll get her out of that girdle
A s**er for lollipops and high heels and s**y perfume
Im rocking something I copped off my hustle, Im feeling lovely
Still sip 40's, now I can sip that bubbly
My zipper is custom made for the groupies and they all love me
My shorty flipping out but its not my fault that I'm studly
Ugly, in this game but knowing its all the same
For the fortune and fame, you will remember the name
I make my own lane, my label gave me the pen
Sign my name on the line, one time, DCM
(Hook)