Type sh*t lyrics

[Intro]
I'm the youngest in charge
b*tch, b*tch, b*tch, b*tch, b*tch
Told them I'm the youngest in charge, huh, b*tch, look (A-A-A-Ayy Melly, what the f*ck is this?)
b*tch

[Verse 1]
I'm the youngest in charge
At the counter with the clerk, punching in cards
Wanted six figures, now I need a hunnid M's large
You can't make the first down, I'm coming ten yards
Think you f*cking with the gang? You coming fent' bars
Boy, you know you laced
Talking 'bout you doing this and that but, boy, you know you ain't
He in here capping, all that hat, that sh*t ridiculous
Too much guala in the skinnies, couldn't fit the blick in it (Damn, twenty-eight skinny)
5.56s with the green tips, feel like iayze
Leaving out the cleaners fresh to death, feel like Ace
Za smoke, burning in my eyes, feel like mace
This a V12 but I don't feel like racing
Ain't no b*tches, dead Prezis what I feel like chasing
Out in Cali, all these flavors, sh*t, I feel like facing
It's some voodoo in our double cups, gang feel like Haitians, ha-ha
Every sip muddy, five percent wrapped around the whip off mirror tint buffies
Why the f*ck when you get money people get funny?
Them dollar signs'll show their true colors
2022 ours, tell 'em pick a new summer
[Verse 2]
(f*ck, sh*t)
Enhanced fake ID, I'm finna fly to Europe
Granny think it's Kool-Aid but this a pint of syrup (Yeah, I done grew up granny, look, alright)
I'm just tryna get rich, three commas type sh*t
Used to walk around broke, three dollars type sh*t
I'm just riding 'round dolo, three choppas type sh*t (Oh my god)
NHLs skating 'round, iced up type sh*t
We just piped him down, he was piped up type sh*t
Don't mug, you get to live life once type sh*t
I was down but I had to climb up type sh*t (Type sh*t, damn)
You internet thugging, I ain't finna type sh*t, bro
Adonis, we'll pull up with that baby Drac'
Charged up off a yerky, bet not try sh*t, bro
In Milwaukee charging Giannis for a pint of Quagy, ayy
They ask how I do it, sh*t, I'm turnt type sh*t
No traction in this b*tch, I'm finna swerve type sh*t
f*ck the US, the hottest on the earth type sh*t
Dirty Faygo got me slurring all my words like, sh*t
Come get the bag off me
You a rookie, you can't even try to trash talk me
Two cups from Dunkin' Donuts, I ain't grab coffee
I just left the lot, you know I told them b*tches Trackhawk me
Two-forty on the dash type sh*t
Popped out with a fifty ball just to flash type sh*t
Gangaroonie in the back, they can match type sh*t
Supreme coat off the backpack type sh*t
Freestyle type sh*t, no, I ain't write sh*t
[Outro]
Huh, huh, type sh*t
Huh, huh, type sh*t
Amiri jeans, b*tch, that type
Bet not try to type sh*t
sh*ttyBoyz