Testo New Type - Summer Walker feat. Childish Gambino
Testo della canzone New Type (Summer Walker feat. Childish Gambino), tratta dall'album CLEAR 2: SOFT LIFE - EP
I'm feeling on these silk sheets
And I'm feeling up these silk sheets
With legs (legs), hips (hips), thighs (thighs), ass (ass)
I'm feeling on these silk sheets
Oh, I'm feeling so alone
Wish I had a man to make me whole, whole
Turn this big ass house into a home, home
And I, I'm watchin' my cellphone ring
Watchin' my shit light up
I got hood niggas blowin' me up, I (I)
I, I (I, I)
Not tonight, tonight, tonight
I got a new type, new type, new type
New type
Trick daddy lookin' motherfucker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguin' on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleepin' on the couch of the house of your mother (no)
You can't live with me, so won't you try and find another?
Fuckin' round with me, you gon' end up on your own
Have your stuff out on the street, won't you go and call Tyrone-rone?
I know I'm ugly but I'm interesting
You know I'm flirtin' with ya (oh)
You want the perfect picture, no filter, simple livin'
Simpin', always listen, guilt him, so there's no suspicion
Low ambition, wanna live his life without my BM in my DM saying Junior miss him
I show up with a happy meal, your attitude ain't happy
You tell my son his daddy broke, he hear you laughin' at me
(Nigga, get the fuck outta here with that broke ass McDonald's)
I'm from around the way, your cousin went to Abernathy
I knew you when your wig ain't had no lace, I loved you nappy
Girl, now why you cappin'? That ass ain't yours, I can't afford, I'm waitin' on my taxes
But you look good, been on your Erykah, I drive through Texas
You said to call Tyrone, you know they booked him in January
I'm doin' 9-to-5, he wanna eat off my commissary
You want me doin' life, I'm not the type to wife
And call me triflin', but I ain't no
Trick daddy lookin' motherfucker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguin' on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleepin' on the couch of the house of your mother (no)
You can't live with me so won't you try and find another?
Fuckin' round with me, you gon' end up on your own
Have your stuff out on the street, won't you go and call Tyrone-rone?
Credits
Writer(s): Donald Glover, Kirby Lauren Dockery, Larry Lambert, Summer Walker, Darnell Stoxstell, Jahlil Gunter, Remey Ramone Williams, Jah Whittingham
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