"Okay Wit Dat" lyrics
Ghetto
The fuck goin', man?
We in Seattle with this shit right now
See what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, what you do?
Wake up in the mornin', drink some drank before I brush my teeth
All them niggas dead if it's up to me
The nigga you look up to, he look up to me
That same bitch just let me hit her raw, who said I'm ugly?
Got a old-school knot on me, that money green
Grew up in the trenches, come outside, it's somethin' to see
Like a dead body
She look like her pussy stank, I want some head probably
Glass pint of Hi-Tech, let's have a red party
Three thousand for the Chrome Heart glasses, I don't wear Cartis
I'm a Flint nigga, I'm a big tipper, I'm a big spinner
Bitch ain't let me fuck, but I just tipped her, I put the tip in
This new Glock a real weapon, got a KRISS Vec' in a big 10
Yeah, the long joint
I ain't never gon' be motherfuckin' broke long as my phone work
Fat nigga, come outside in wintertime with no shirt
Like where the fuck you get them diamonds from? 'Cause they don't twerk
Them bitches don't dance
I know I'm rich, eight thousand for the Chrome pants
Nigga, me and my bitch'll put hands on each other 'fore we hold hands
I was young as hell, I learned how to cook crack from my old man
That's all he ever taught me, ayy
A pair of socks is all he ever bought me
I got a 'bow of weed, I'm goin' to Paulie's
Break it down to three-fives, let's have a party
I'm with some white hoes, they doin' Adderall and molly
I'll leave a nigga ghost, I'm in Saginaw with Tommy
.45 ACP
These is not the regular ones, these the ACGs
They was made by Yeat
Your brother dead
They named the block after him, so we made that street, yeah
Get it? Get it? Get it? Bitch, I get it
Bitch thought I was playin' 'cause I'm gigglin'
'Cause I'm smilin'
I don't want no fuckin' weed, Black & Mild me, bitch
I'm a Ghetto Boy, I wear what I want, you don't have to style me
I wear what the fuck I want to, I don't have a stylist
Bitch just asked to hit my Black, but she got gingivitis
He got a janky-ass fully, broke the pin inside it
Nigga, this a real Glock 18, I paid eleven thousand
Drop a hundred shots five times and I didn't have a problem
One day, I shot the SK 'til it caught on fire
He ain't never got seen with no dope, they caught him through the wire
Like Kanye
I'll rope some shit off at Family Dollars right now, free Monyea
I'll rope some shit at the studio
Free my nigga Bareface, I'm off Don Julio
Bitch, I'm drunk as hell
I was tryna do my dance in the club, then somethin' fell, damn
That's my Glock 27
My cousin spanked five niggas 'fore he died, he not in Heaven
But I'm okay with that
Fuck around and kidnap your son, you want the baby back?
I need eighty racks
But don't...
Don't believe shit I say 'cause it may be cap
Yes, it may be rap or it maybe ain't
I can die right now, I know my baby straight
He had a hundred shots, he shot a...
He had a hundred shots, he shot a nigga twelve times, now he got eighty-eight
Bitch, I'm good at math
Yes, that bitch look so bad that I wouldn't pass
Nah, yep, I pick her right there
10 M got so much kick, I can murk a bear
I don't never ask hoes for they number, I just smirk and stare
I ain't talk to my dad in two years, but he birthed a player
I'm okay with that
Real fiend, three pints of Act', I paid eighty racks
And I'm okay with that
The fuck goin', man?
We in Seattle with this shit right now
See what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, what you do?
Wake up in the mornin', drink some drank before I brush my teeth
All them niggas dead if it's up to me
The nigga you look up to, he look up to me
That same bitch just let me hit her raw, who said I'm ugly?
Got a old-school knot on me, that money green
Grew up in the trenches, come outside, it's somethin' to see
Like a dead body
She look like her pussy stank, I want some head probably
Glass pint of Hi-Tech, let's have a red party
Three thousand for the Chrome Heart glasses, I don't wear Cartis
I'm a Flint nigga, I'm a big tipper, I'm a big spinner
Bitch ain't let me fuck, but I just tipped her, I put the tip in
This new Glock a real weapon, got a KRISS Vec' in a big 10
Yeah, the long joint
I ain't never gon' be motherfuckin' broke long as my phone work
Fat nigga, come outside in wintertime with no shirt
Like where the fuck you get them diamonds from? 'Cause they don't twerk
Them bitches don't dance
I know I'm rich, eight thousand for the Chrome pants
Nigga, me and my bitch'll put hands on each other 'fore we hold hands
I was young as hell, I learned how to cook crack from my old man
That's all he ever taught me, ayy
A pair of socks is all he ever bought me
I got a 'bow of weed, I'm goin' to Paulie's
Break it down to three-fives, let's have a party
I'm with some white hoes, they doin' Adderall and molly
I'll leave a nigga ghost, I'm in Saginaw with Tommy
.45 ACP
These is not the regular ones, these the ACGs
They was made by Yeat
Your brother dead
They named the block after him, so we made that street, yeah
Get it? Get it? Get it? Bitch, I get it
Bitch thought I was playin' 'cause I'm gigglin'
'Cause I'm smilin'
I don't want no fuckin' weed, Black & Mild me, bitch
I'm a Ghetto Boy, I wear what I want, you don't have to style me
I wear what the fuck I want to, I don't have a stylist
Bitch just asked to hit my Black, but she got gingivitis
He got a janky-ass fully, broke the pin inside it
Nigga, this a real Glock 18, I paid eleven thousand
Drop a hundred shots five times and I didn't have a problem
One day, I shot the SK 'til it caught on fire
He ain't never got seen with no dope, they caught him through the wire
Like Kanye
I'll rope some shit off at Family Dollars right now, free Monyea
I'll rope some shit at the studio
Free my nigga Bareface, I'm off Don Julio
Bitch, I'm drunk as hell
I was tryna do my dance in the club, then somethin' fell, damn
That's my Glock 27
My cousin spanked five niggas 'fore he died, he not in Heaven
But I'm okay with that
Fuck around and kidnap your son, you want the baby back?
I need eighty racks
But don't...
Don't believe shit I say 'cause it may be cap
Yes, it may be rap or it maybe ain't
I can die right now, I know my baby straight
He had a hundred shots, he shot a...
He had a hundred shots, he shot a nigga twelve times, now he got eighty-eight
Bitch, I'm good at math
Yes, that bitch look so bad that I wouldn't pass
Nah, yep, I pick her right there
10 M got so much kick, I can murk a bear
I don't never ask hoes for they number, I just smirk and stare
I ain't talk to my dad in two years, but he birthed a player
I'm okay with that
Real fiend, three pints of Act', I paid eighty racks
And I'm okay with that
