Lyrics:
trap phone boomin'
That's all I know (Woah)
I want her friend, all I know
(yeah) , type my ventin, all I know (Woah)
Your bitch fiendin', all I
Know,
You know what I mean?
You could put a label on a life
Put a label on a lifestyle (sometimes), you know
Put a label on how you wake up every
You know what I mean
You could put a label on a life
Put a label on a lifestyle (sometimes), you know
Put a label on how you wake up every morning
how long can she last (hey)
Bitch, I’m too fire, turn the lights on
(sauce)
Heard these niggas bitin' like a python
(woah)
That's the type of shit that
Show me love that I can register
You know I need it on the regular
Show me a love that I can register
Baby I need it on the regular
I'm talkin kisses
That's why you're winning (hey)
Every night when
I close my eyes, I can see you
My perfect type
And I never really thought my dreams would come true
Until
to report the news
Controlled by Andrew Shoals, Cole Scott heads straight to the label's studio
He lights a Molotov and throws it in the window
Burning
on tight-knot
On my forehead placed a label
Took all my inspiration
Cause your name was on the table
Let's talk about me
Let's talk about you
I know your
I be's the block (partner let me upgrade you)
I hear you be the block, but I'm the lights that keep the streets on
Notice you the type, that like
Sometimes when I sit back and really let it register
I did everything I said I would, and said it first
I mean the world's in denial, but they all
I be's the block (partner let me upgrade you)
I hear you be the block, but I'm the lights that keep the streets on
Notice you the type, that like
on tight-knot
On my forehead placed a label
Took all my inspiration
Cause your name was on the table
Let's talk about me
Let's talk about you
I know your
can ask her if I fuck, she gassed, huh
I gotta keep it a secret, I keep a key in my lower pocket
Inside a register below the lower octave
Dirty
Yeah
I don't work this hard to be around people I don't like
Uh, yeah
Gotta be a special type nigga to deal with my life
Gotta be a special
suck his dick, you would've been pissed
But that's not my M.O., I'm not that type of bitch
And karma for you is gon' be who you end up with
You make
cellular
Ball like Mayweather
Don King at the register
I stack chedder, it's etcetera, etcetera
I'm addicted to winning
Pretty women and spinnin'
Ferragamo
doesn't work, you better use your real Kung Fu
Yeah, ayo, she want a thug, not the lawyer type
A golden boy to promote it right, sorta like a ill De La
try me
Checkin' to see if the guy's fearin' ya
They wishin' I would go stick my dick in the criteria
It's all good, doin' the type of shit y'all wish
know)
There are places where TB is common as TV
'Cause foreign-based companies go and get greedy
The type of cats who pollute the whole shoreline
Have
Sell your soul to annul you're old life tonight
At the table I need labels
Need some sense to be able
To register my own fables
Beneath the sun I'm
thinking that I changed like a cashier
But I can't let that register, get the fuck up on out of here
Buy a brick and roll it, light it, get high
Niggas just afraid, handin' me they bracelets
Chillin' in the lab wasted, I'm the type
That'll drink Kahlua and gin, throw up on the mic
Your life is
ask my label
Pretty please,
Ooh, for just another day in parodies.
I'm a big star
New cars
Never thought I'd take a joke this far after CMA's
I
After I fuck the manager up
Then I'm going to shorten the register up
Let's go back, back to the Gap
Look at my check, wasn't no scratch
So if I stole,
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