Luh Tyler – Ok Bet Pt. 2 (feat. Skilla Baby) [ Lyrics ] Letra Luh Tyler Luh Tyler – Ok Bet Pt. 2 (feat. Skilla Baby) [ 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 twenty in my fuckin’ pants
Yeah, sixty on my neck
On my neck, nigga
How the fuck you rappin’ ‘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 fuckin’ chain, it might just cause a blizzard
Brr
Got this lil’ bitch fucked up ‘bout 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
Ski, ha
I took my baby on a ski trip, Luh Tyler
Luh Tyler
Got people thinkin’ I’m a dragon, what I say fire
Ha
Tell all my hoes that I love ‘em, but I’m a liar
I’m a liar
Goin’ through my city, stabbin’ shit like I’m Michael Myers
Ayy
Niggas say they gon’ 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 knockin’ down the cold hoes, knockin’ 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 ‘em off
He knock ‘em off, nigga
Yeah, my nigga treat ‘em some like Randy, get ‘em mossed
I don’t take no fuckin’ 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 fuckin’ 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 standin’ 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 sayin’ 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 chillin’, I’ma still kill ‘em, they don’t know that
They don’t know that
I be actin’ 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 barkin’ on the ‘net, pockets so flat
Pockets so flat
Never see ‘em 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 ‘fro back
Ha
They like, “Tyler, get back on your snap shit,” okay, bet
Okay, bet, nigga
Got like twenty in my fuckin’ pants
Yeah, sixty on my neck
On my neck, nigga
How the fuck you rappin’ ‘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, yeah
Ski
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