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Artist: Z-Ro
Album:  Cocaine
Song:   Type of Nigga I Am
Typed by: Lil Hustle
Uh every morning I wake up, I start my day off wrong
Firing up that kush, before I even put my clothes on
Load my glock 40, before I even wash my face
I do these type of thangs, so I won't be a murder case
When I'm rolling in my ride, it be a look on my face so cold
Staring at your ass so hard, I can see straight through to your soul
Ain't no telling when somebody, trying to get me for my riches
I just done leave em in stitches, now I leave they ass in ditches
I don't love bitches I don't love niggaz, I don't love nothing 
It's gon' take my mama coming back from the grave, for me to love something
I let my temper get the best of me and I go off, for no reason
This is the beginning, of kicking in your do' season
I met a couple of niggaz in jail, ya'll was screaming they were real 
But Joseph, was the only one I could feel 
You don't like it call the law, fuck you hoes I don't give a damn
I'll knock your bitch ass out, and that's the type of nigga I am
N-I-G-G-A, I'ma get drunk and smoke weed all day 
Cause that's the type of nigga I am - 3x 
N-I-G-G-A, tell me who gon' fuck around with Joseph Wayne McVey 
A lot of niggaz mumble under they breath, about what they gon' do
Running up on Z-Ro the Crooked, is what they won't do 
Yeah I'm cool calm and collected, but I ain't got it all 
That's why I go from how you doing, to fuck all ya'll
My attitude is rude enough, to be a crooked cop
But it ain't no red or blue lights, flashing on the top of my drop top
I'm a gangsta, and I spit nothing but gangsta shit 
That's coming from a five-deuce, hoover gangsta crip 
Banging Street Military, Point Blank and Klondike Kat 
Cause shit they were talking about, I grew up just like that
My hood was full of thugs, money guns and dope
Finding my stomach full of liquor, my lungs full of smoke
I had a pocket full of stones, out there chasing that money
And once I got it, I'll be damned if somebody could take it from me
Run on up and I'ma dump, untl the trigger jam
Motherfucker you better realize, that's the type of nigga I am
The King of the Ghetto, ain't no punk motherfucker
I'll open my hand, and slap motherfuckers
Guess they shouldn't of been, some stupid ass dumb motherfuckers 
Nigga don't piss me off, unless you ready to run motherfucker
Most of fellas, be running off at the mouth like hoes
But in reality, you faker than a foot with four big toes
But me I'm gon' shoot it up and shut it down, straight like that
Or keep throwing combinations, until you can't fight back
From the city, where everybody go for broke
It's so crucial, I could be murdered by one of my own locs
Hell naw you can't roll with me, I roll alone
Ain't no use in calling me either, I can't seem to hear my phone
Fuck the promoter, cause he ain't trying to pay me what I'm worth
I run away with his deposit, and it ain't gon' be no concert
Free Pharoah, my nigga doing fifty aggravated in the slam 
My criminal record shows, that be the type of nigga I am