NEW TYPE LYRICS – SUMMER WALKER

New Type Lyrics by Summer Walker, Childish Gambino is latest English song lyrics of New Type song is written by Summer Walker, Childish Gambino, STOX, Jah Whittingham, Jay Versace, Larry Lambert, Remey Williams.

New Type Song Detail

Song TitleNew Type
Singer(s)Summer Walker, Childish Gambino
Musician(s)Jay Versace, Larry Lambert, Remey Williams, STOX, Jah Whittingham
Lyricist(s)Summer Walker, Childish Gambino, STOX, Jah Whittingham, Jay Versace, Larry Lambert, Remey Williams

New Type Lyrics by Summer Walker

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 a*s house into a home home

And I I’m watching my cellphone ring
Watching my shit light up
I got hood n!ggas blowing 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 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 (no)
You can’t live with me so won’t you try and find another?
Fu*king 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 (oh)
You want the perfect picture no filter simple living
Simping always listen guilt him so there’s no suspicion
Low ambition wanna live his life without my bm in my dm saying do you 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 fu*k outta here with that broke a*s 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 capping? that a*s ain’t yours
I can’t afford I’m waiting 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 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 (no)

Sleeping on the couch of the house of your mother
You can’t live with me so won’t you try and find another?
Fu*king 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?

This is the end of New Type song lyrics

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