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Summer Walker - New Type Lyrics



Summer Walker - New Type Lyrics
Official




I'm feeling on these silk sheets
And I'm filling 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)
I'm watching my cell phone ring
Watching my shit light up
I got hood niggas blowing me up, I (I)
I, I (I, I)
Not tonight
Tonight, tonight
I gotta new type, new type, new type
New type

Trick daddy looking motherf*cker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguing on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleeping on the couch of the house of your mother
You can't live with me so won't you try and find another?
F*cking '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 flirting with ya
You want that perfect picture
No filter, simple living
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 laughing at me
(Nigga, get the f*ck 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 have 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 doing 9 to 5, he wanna eat off my commissary
You want me doing life, I'm not the type to wife
And call me trifling, but I ain't no

Trick daddy lookin' motherf*cker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguing on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleeping on the couch of the house of your mother
You can't live with me so won't you try and find another?
F*cking '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?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I'm feeling on these silk sheets
And I'm filling 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)
I'm watching my cell phone ring
Watching my shit light up
I got hood niggas blowing me up, I (I)
I, I (I, I)
Not tonight
Tonight, tonight
I gotta new type, new type, new type
New type

Trick daddy looking motherf*cker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguing on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleeping on the couch of the house of your mother
You can't live with me so won't you try and find another?
F*cking '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 flirting with ya
You want that perfect picture
No filter, simple living
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 laughing at me
(Nigga, get the f*ck 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 have 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 doing 9 to 5, he wanna eat off my commissary
You want me doing life, I'm not the type to wife
And call me trifling, but I ain't no

Trick daddy lookin' motherf*cker
Swear 'fore God I never wanna see another
Hoes on the top, on the bottom, way up under
Arguing on the phone with your ugly baby mother
Sleeping on the couch of the house of your mother
You can't live with me so won't you try and find another?
F*cking '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?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Summer Marjani Walker, Donald Glover, Darnell Stoxtell, Larry Lambert, Jah Whittingham, Jahlil Gunter, Remey Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




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