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The Type

The Type Lyrics Curren$y feat. Prodigy

Album: Covert Coup

[Curren$y]
Let the little 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 guy surrounded by wolves wild/dangerous
That’s where I gained this cool!
Walk this talk, you trying to duplicate and make twos
All you do is make fools of yourselves
Underground jewels, Chester Copperpot, wallet in the wishing well
Evidence niggas done fell trying to get close to the jet-code
But it will never be deciphered by a rookie pilot
That’s why I sit opposite the driver, '63 Impala
Bad bitch, chain steering wheel guidance
I’m out the window sky watching
Plotting as usual, that’s what I’m doing when I quiet
Can’t remember shorty name, but she had that loud pack
That other night in Tallahassee, and I thank her for that
Fine freaky sending snaps with her legs behind her back
In the wee hours of the morning, picture mailing that she horny
But love, I'm tryna fuck with this money

[Hook - Curren$y]
We bust raps like D boys bust Gats
We the type of people that don’t bury the ax
Hold up!
We bust raps like D boys bust Gats
We’re the type of people Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals

[Prodigy]
We bust raps like we bust these gats
We’re the type of people that don’t bury the ax
Hold up!
We bust raps like we bust these gats
We're the type of people Chevies and GMC's

[Verse 2 - Prodigy]
Fuck it, it's the life of a shooting star, gotta move smart
Can’t get caught slipping, they all wanna see me fall
Take my punches like a trooper, take my losses like a man
It come with the territory, take the good with the bad
Throw the dice, watch 'em tumble, where they land, so be it
Everything is not strategic, sometimes we risk our life
Sometimes we risk our love, our money, and our freedom
That bullshit could feed it, to see if you gonna 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
All these crabs in the bucket, pull you down trying to get up
Every man for theyself, every woman want bags and shoes
We’re the type of people that could find you

[Hook]

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