Okay Bet Pt. 2 (feat. Skilla Baby)

Various Artists

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Okay Bet Pt. 2 (feat. Skilla Baby) Song Lyrics
(You aren't even a cold breeze for my man, Taz) yeah, nigga, ayy
Ayy, I'm finna walk this bitch, nigga
Yeah, gang

They like, "Tyler, get back on your snap shit," okay, bet (okay, bet, nigga)
Got like 20 in my fuckin' pants (yeah), 60 on my neck (on my neck, nigga)
How the fuck you rapping 'bout them bands? (Yeah) ain't never seen a check (ain't seen no check, nigga)
Bitch want me to be her man (yeah), but I just pass her to the next (straight to the next)
Boy, we richer than a bitch, why the fuck would I be stressed? (Would I be stressed?)
I just woke up, made some fuckin' bands before your ass got dressed (you ain't even dressed)
Bitch, I hop on any beat (nigga) and fuck it up, and make a mess (uh-uh)
You think Mike Tyson in my blunt, you take a puff, it hit your chest (boom, baow, nigga)

Nigga, I'm the realest in this shit (yeah), you cannot get more realer (can't get no realer)
All these diamonds on my fucking chain, it might just cause a blizzard (brr)
Got this lil' bitch fucked up about the kid and ain't even hit her (ain't even hit her)
And all these bitches tryna have my baby like my name was Skilla

I took my baby on a ski trip, Luh Tyler (Luh Tyler)
Got people thinking I'm a dragon, what I say fire (ha)
Tell all my hoes that I love them, but I'm a liar (I'm a liar)
Goin' through my city, stabbing shit like I'm Michael Myers (ayy)
Niggas say they gonna kill me, okay, bet (okay, bet)
I been tryna put a M in my jeans, these ain't Mek (these ain't Mek)
I been knocking down the cold hoes, knocking off the threats (bop)
Niggas notice me when I be on the Delta, so I jump on jets (ha)

Nigga, please don't call my phone, it ain't 'bout cheese, don't wanna talk (don't wanna talk, nigga)
Swear to God, you cannot name a fuckin' beat I did not walk (I did not walk)
If my nigga see they tryna get it on, he knock them off (he knock them off, nigga)
Yeah, my nigga treat them some like Randy, get them mossed
I don't take no fucking orders, nigga (What? Yeah)
I don't take no fuckin' orders 'round this bitch 'cause I'm the boss (bitch, I'm the boss)
Man, I think you better go and grab the map, these niggas lost (these niggas lost)
Ricks on my fucking feet, just like my last name was Ross (gang, gang)

Money and the family, it ain't nothin' that come before that (yeah)
I done went back to my old bitch, man, it's a throwback (it's a throwback, yeah)
You niggas let your brothers hold some, them niggas so flat (them niggas so flat)
Nigga, we be standing on the business like it was a doormat (that shit a doormat)
Nigga, we was broke (yeah), but now we ran it up, so we can't go back (we can't go back, nigga)
My brodie walked in with a dirty cup, like where the soap at? (Uh-uh)
And that boy be ready to crack a nigga head to where the yolk at
And all this shit I'm saying comin' off the head, I never wrote that (ski)

Niggas tryna steal my flow, give me my flow back (give me my flow back)
I been chilling, I'ma still kill them, they don't know that (they don't know that)
I be acting like I'm innocent, but I be on that (I be on that)
Baby keep on tryna throw that pussy at me, I don't want that, huh
These niggas barking on the net, pockets so flat (pockets so flat)
Never see them with no money like those boys don't want racks (they don't want racks)
I been tryna chill on the hits, don't make me go back (chill, chill)
Like a bad barber, I'll push a lil' nigga afro back (ha)

They like, "Tyler, get back on your snap shit," okay, bet (okay, bet, nigga)
Got like 20 in my fuckin' pants (yeah), 60 on my neck (on my neck, nigga)
How the fuck you rapping about them bands? (Yeah) ain't never seen a check (ain't seen no check, nigga)
Bitch want me to be her man (yeah), but I just pass her to the next (straight to the next)
Boy, we richer than a bitch, why the fuck would I be stressed? (Would I be stressed?)
I just woke up, made some fucking bands before your ass got dressed (you ain't even dressed)
Bitch, I hop on any beat (nigga) and fuck it up, and make a mess (uh-uh)
You think Mike Tyson in my blunt, you take a puff, it hit your chest (boom, baow, nigga, yeah)

Ski
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