(Typ iLL Verse One)

I got a question for you haters, check

What you mad at me for? 'Cause ya'll ain't made it yet?

Ill never sweat it you can bet that I deal with the hate

I'm multi-talented, Ill figure 4 your whore while doing figure 8's

Seven figure my dinner plate, I bee hungry from get go

Heaven sent to the sinners place, I been coming, God said so

Up and coming a winners place, I been running since first breath

Ok Ok, really though, I been running since first step

T Y P in this bitch and I got to make this verse worth it

Not an option to drop me, go cop me, I'm worth the purchase

Hustled to make my first check, muscle flexing on benches

Military minded, tryna survive in these trenches

I realize that my time is now, come find me and sign me now

My quality's top shelf, 'cause quantity burns me out

Insomnia got me writing perfection, I need this

Point proven, wrote this joint last week I ain't sleep yet

Swing Sucka

(Hook)

You got a problem with me? You want a piece of me?

Its not a question, these mother fuckas ain't seeing me

Too many haters made me, me, not worried about it

Too many tough guys won't swing, they scared about it

Swing Sucka, Sw-Swing Sucka (yea)

Swing Sucka, Sw-Swing Sucka (uh huh)

Swing Sucka, Sw-Swing Sucka

Sucka Sucka... Take your best shot

(Ali Vegas Verse 2)

Give me a steal mic, Ill show you I'm the iLL Typ

Its so wrong that critics think that i still write

My lyrics just feel like,that i can take off and land of mars

Whenever I feel like

You sitting on the block, I be whipping in a drop like you pissing in a pot

Flowing sick over sick beats is a sickness that I got

Y'all make songs to listen to

Me, I make lyrics niggas watch

So swing Sucka, my and my Queens nukkas

Looking for a reason to dirty up our clean chuckas

Never disrespect my prime

This what happens when you start comparing me and just let me rhyme

Who got a problem, we solve 'em

We either carve or revolve 'em, once them bullets get lodged in

You seen them goons and them goblins

Start looking for Sergeants, Pointing out Typ & Veg and the rest of the squadron

HOOK

(Typ iLL Verse 3)

I got a question for you non believers disguised as supporters

Asking how the rapping's doing, claiming that you're in my corner

I got no corners, I move with a circle holding a virtue

We business minded, we grinding, interfere and i will hurt you

Ill murk you until you purple

Exert you until burn to me verbal beyond your purview

You gerbil, ain't no one heard you

Including your girl tripping, I'll get her out of that girdle

A sucker for lollipops and high heels and sexy perfume

Im rocking something I copped off my hustle, Im feeling lovely

Still sip 40's, now I can sip that bubbly

My zipper is custom made for the groupies and they all love me

My shorty flipping out but its not my fault that I'm studly

Ugly, in this game but knowing its all the same

For the fortune and fame, you will remember the name

I make my own lane, my label gave me the pen

Sign my name on the line, one time, DCM

(Hook)