Canibus - The Type That lyrics
[Canibus - The Type That lyrics]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
You know it's all terrific you know it's
Yo i just want to see you pump yo fist
I don't want to hear ya'll talk no shit
I just want to get on stage and show the gift
Show the gift
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
Yo ayo
What up god? No luck? Aww
You can't sell crack on the block no more
Cause, I pulled up, parked, rolled up
Sparked dogs bark oh shit! Narcs!
I Jackie Chan up the wall and sit in the dark
Or go running for a jog while
I spit in the park my jigsaw still hard
The metaphors remain sharp
Give you sharp pains through your
Brain if you slang-box
Me and you in the sandbox
With our hands locked
Get the same shit your man
With the broken hand got
I bang Glock, I've been hot
Cock bang Mi Ling from Bangkok for ten baht
My broad with the fat ass can sit up front
Your broad that look like trash
Can sit in the trunk
I'ma fuck 'til I break off chunks
Break off a big chunk of skunk
And take off with a blunt
Hit the studio, sometimes I work all day
Still change my voice-box oil every 3K
Step to the stage, throw a sign to the Deejay
Everybody screaming out
"Do what the weed say!"
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
The type of nigga that'll set up shop with ya
The type of nigga that'll pace
The block with ya
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I got ya
This is! A Hip-Hop invasion
My stage concentration got me 'bout to blaze
It when the first wave hit
I wanna' see 'em pump they hands like this
Like they never heard a jam like this
The world never had to share a mic Bis
How many cyphers I done banged like this?
No hype man just a hand-mic kit
I approach the stage, by motorcade
Like in the olden days, with my own deejay
Smarty Jones on the microphone:
They know I'ma race the first heat transfer
Probably blow up the place
When I win I start cussin'
Throw the dough in your face
You could keep it, I could get more
I know what it takes
In the parking lot drinkin' on drank
She view the videos
Got me thinkin' that I'm holdin'
Up the wrong banks
No offense, I pull up to star studded events
In an old bucket with tints
With some of my friends
When I say friends I mean
A couple buddies of mine
The Glock-nine and the
Double-action forty-five bend your mental
From the beginning to the end is connected
To the beginning like infinity symbols
I keep it simple, don't want to offend you
Cause niggas don't understand what
They ain't into misunderstanding is still a
Form of understanding
But ya'll niggas don't hear me though
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
The type of nigga that'll set up shop with ya
The type of nigga that'll pace
The block with ya
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I got ya
You know it's all terrific you know it's
Yo i just want to see you pump yo fist
I don't want to hear ya'll talk no shit
I just want to get on stage and show the gift
Show the gift
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
Yo ayo
What up god? No luck? Aww
You can't sell crack on the block no more
Cause, I pulled up, parked, rolled up
Sparked dogs bark oh shit! Narcs!
I Jackie Chan up the wall and sit in the dark
Or go running for a jog while
I spit in the park my jigsaw still hard
The metaphors remain sharp
Give you sharp pains through your
Brain if you slang-box
Me and you in the sandbox
With our hands locked
Get the same shit your man
With the broken hand got
I bang Glock, I've been hot
Cock bang Mi Ling from Bangkok for ten baht
My broad with the fat ass can sit up front
Your broad that look like trash
Can sit in the trunk
I'ma fuck 'til I break off chunks
Break off a big chunk of skunk
And take off with a blunt
Hit the studio, sometimes I work all day
Still change my voice-box oil every 3K
Step to the stage, throw a sign to the Deejay
Everybody screaming out
"Do what the weed say!"
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
The type of nigga that'll set up shop with ya
The type of nigga that'll pace
The block with ya
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I got ya
This is! A Hip-Hop invasion
My stage concentration got me 'bout to blaze
It when the first wave hit
I wanna' see 'em pump they hands like this
Like they never heard a jam like this
The world never had to share a mic Bis
How many cyphers I done banged like this?
No hype man just a hand-mic kit
I approach the stage, by motorcade
Like in the olden days, with my own deejay
Smarty Jones on the microphone:
They know I'ma race the first heat transfer
Probably blow up the place
When I win I start cussin'
Throw the dough in your face
You could keep it, I could get more
I know what it takes
In the parking lot drinkin' on drank
She view the videos
Got me thinkin' that I'm holdin'
Up the wrong banks
No offense, I pull up to star studded events
In an old bucket with tints
With some of my friends
When I say friends I mean
A couple buddies of mine
The Glock-nine and the
Double-action forty-five bend your mental
From the beginning to the end is connected
To the beginning like infinity symbols
I keep it simple, don't want to offend you
Cause niggas don't understand what
They ain't into misunderstanding is still a
Form of understanding
But ya'll niggas don't hear me though
I'm the type of nigga that'll
Click-click ride with ya
The type of nigga that'll smoke
That lah with ya
The type of nigga that'll bust
That nine at ya
Spit that line at ya, kick that fire at ya
The type of nigga that'll set up shop with ya
The type of nigga that'll pace
The block with ya
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I got ya