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Luh Tyler – Ok Bet Pt. 2 (feat. Skilla Baby) Lyrics

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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Skilla Baby – Black Force Lyrics

Skilla Baby – Black Force Letra [ Lyrics ] Letra Skilla Baby Skilla Baby – Black Force Letra [ Lyrics ]
Intro
Huh?
Yeah
Please don’t tell me be safe, nigga, tell that to my opps
Huh?

Verse 1
How rich is you, Skilla? Nigga, I’m filthy
I’ll never backdoor my mans, it ain’t in me
I can’t let my guard down ‘cause niggas tryna kill me
Same niggas that I send to kill shit used to send me
When I get a drop, a nigga gettin’ shot
Treat a bitch-ass nigga like some lean and get him dropped
Please don’t tell me be safe, nigga, tell that to my opps
I pull up on niggas’ blocks in somethin’ bigger than a yacht
Niggas tellin’ me to chill, huh? But I’m not
Niggas started shit with me and niggas tellin’ mе to stop
My opps tell they aunts and they aunts tеll the cops
They don’t wanna see me dead, they want me sleepin’ on a cot
Chorus
I’m tryna hit somethin’, nigga, huh, black Force music
Done glowed my strap up, I’m tryna get a nigga torched to it
I’m tryna hit somethin’, nigga, huh, black Force music
These niggas finished, man, somebody put a fork through ‘em
Black Force music, get a nigga torched to it
Black Force music, man, put a fork through ‘em
Black Force music, nigga, we ignore rules
Black Force music, trippin’ in the courtroom, hah

Post-Chorus
On that bullshit, we be on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I’m still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I get on some bullshit
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I’m still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit

Verse 2
I got a pocket rocket on me and I’m ridin’ with a K
You know me, I’m from the D, I’ll get it poppin’ in the A
Shit ain’t sweet, I still beef ‘cause it ain’t stop none of my pape’
Catch a nigga in the street, we be done shot him in the face
Brodie on the yard trippin’, out there walkin’ with a shank
Man, my Drac’ll lean a nigga, be done dropped him like some drank
Every weekend, I catch a flight, I’m in another place
I be outside, these niggas do not, ‘cause it ain’t safe
They do not be on the block, they don’t be in TSA
I don’t see ‘em when I’m in the mall or when I’m in the bank
They say I’m goin’ overboard, but these demos gotta lay
Before I turn thirty, gotta let these niggas know that I don’t play
Chorus
I’m tryna hit somethin’, nigga, huh, black Force music
Done glowed my strap up, I’m tryna get a nigga torched to it
I’m tryna hit somethin’, nigga, huh, black Force music
These niggas finished, man, somebody put a fork through ‘em
Black Force music, get a nigga torched to it
Black Force music, man, put a fork through ‘em
Black Force music, nigga, we ignore rules
Black Force music, trippin’ in the courtroom, hah

Post-Chorus
On that bullshit, we be on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I’m still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I get on some bullshit
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit
On that bullshit, I’m still on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we get on that bullshit
On that bullshit, we still on that bullshit

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Sada Baby & Skilla Baby – Fresh Lyrics

Sada Baby & Skilla Baby – Fresh ( Lyrics Letra ) Letra Sada Baby Sada Baby & Skilla Baby – Fresh ( Lyrics Letra )
Intro
Huh
I get fresh for no reason
I get fresh for no reason
I get—
Huh

Verse 1
I got gold
My shit rose
I got hoes
Louis clothes
Rollie on
That bitch froze
I got Gucci on
I’m at home
Throw my Louis on
Then I’m leavin’
Amiri on
From next season (Huh)
Chorus
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (‘Miri jeans)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (New SB’s)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (Louboutins)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (My feet bleed)
I get fresh (Louis T)
For no reason (Nеw Supreme)
I get frеsh (Gucci sneaks)
For no reason (Boy, you clean)

Verse 2
I get fresh
Nike tech with two hunnid on my neck
Black ?, bout to get that station off of ?
I got bitches in here, ass shakin’ ‘cause I like to trip
A red bottom book bag, never wear no fanny pack
Bitch, this a one-on-one
Hm, somethin’ like I miss
Ho, you gon’ get one chance
Huh, you can’t try again
Uh, thousand dollar pens
Huh, thumbin’ through my bands
Huh, hunnid racks for that Rollie dancin’ off my hand
Huh, fresh for no reason, crispy every evening
Roll the windows down, up the ?, Escalade sleeves
Hit the road, I put scripts in her pussy, in her cleavage
You can’t scope shit on my size, coupe lookin’ like Darrelle Revis
I send nigga to hell easy
Shoot this ebony and he ain’t breathin’
I ain’t cappin’, I got Lil’ Cappy sittin’ outside with a desert eagle
Born in ’92, but I got 9-4 out here, I can eat
On the East side with my people
I might get dougie ?
Chorus
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (‘Miri jeans)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (New SB’s)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (Louboutins)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (My feet bleed)
I get fresh (Louis T)
For no reason (New Supreme)
I get fresh (Gucci sneaks)
For no reason (Boy, you clean)

Verse 3
I wake up, put my clothes on
Just to get some balls on
Got my Prada jogger fit on
Just to take my hoes on
My new bitch say she like flowers
So I bought her rose gold
I can get fresher than my opps in my old clothes
I walk in the Louis store, like I need the one on hold
My opp walk in the studio, stomp him in my Air Force 1
I put on no ID, or for the days I used to peep ?
Prada shades on for fashion, they don’t even help me see more
Louis V, my whole fit, I got on a rose key
500-gram Cuban thang, bro look like a whole brick
Twenty bands in my pants, I look like a whole lick
Buffs look like some cocaine, I look like I sold it
They’re like Skilla, you got it on the mirror
I be like no shit
If you ain’t fresh, then start leavin’
I be fresh, for no reason
(Huh)
Chorus
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (‘Miri jeans)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (New SB’s)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (Louboutins)
I get fresh (I be clean)
For no reason (My feet bleed)
I get fresh (Louis T)
For no reason (New Supreme)
I get fresh (Gucci sneaks)
For no reason (Boy, you clean)
(Huh)
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Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby – Gorgeous Remix (feat. City Girls) Lyrics

Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby – Gorgeous Remix (feat. City Girls) [ Lyrics Lyrics] Letra Tee Grizzley Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby – Gorgeous Remix (feat. City Girls) [ Lyrics Lyrics]
Gorgeous, you gorgeous (Uh, uh, yeah)
Gorgeous, you gorgeous (Yung Miami, It’s the motherfuckin’ remix, Helluva made this beat, baby)
Gorgeous, you gorgeous
Gorgeous, you gorgeous (Jack)

Huh? Six figures for a Patek, it’s gorgeous
Diamond links on my wrist full of pointers (Pointers)
Cuban link on my neck, this bitch gorgeous (Ayy, ayy, this bitch gorgeous)
We eat the most, bust tint, it’s enormous (Yeah, yeah, you know that)
I love staring at my bitch, she gorgeous (She gorgeous)
She love staring at my kit, it’s gorgeous (It’s gorgeous)
My lil’ bitch say her favorite words is: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)
I keep talkin’ to my wrist like: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)

Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)

She know she bad (She bad), I’m still gon’ tell her that she gorgeous (Gorgeous)
She got a man (So?), you better not kiss him, I need oral (Bitch)
You know these hoes gon’ do whatever I tell ‘em, I ain’t normal (Whatever I tell ‘em)
Wrist pull of pointers, ain’t no paper shortage, nigga (Ah)
It look like phone numbers when I get advances (When them numbers come)
I love your natural body, baby, let’s enhance it (Let me turn you up)
They would’ve kicked you out of school, you the baddest (So cold, bitch)
You know them bitches that ain’t gorgeous be the maddest (They sick)
Half a million on my weddin’, I’m a married man
Bitches thought they blew their chance, they ain’t never had a chance (She closed)
My neck need to go viral, it’s doin’ a TikTok dance (Bitch dancin’)
You gorgeous, I can’t spend no time, but I can spend some bands (Ah)

Six figures for a Patek, it’s gorgeous (It’s gorgeous)
Diamond links on my wrist full of pointers (Pointers)
Cuban link on my neck, this bitch gorgeous (This bitch gorgeous)
We eat the most, bust tint, it’s enormous (It’s enormous, huh?)
I love staring at my bitch, she gorgeous (She gorgeous)
She love staring at my kit, it’s gorgeous (It’s gorgeous)
My lil’ bitch say her favorite words is: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)
I keep talkin’ to my wrist like: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)

Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous, I know)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous, ah)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous, bitch, you better get the motherfuckin’ prettiest bitch on here)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous, JT)

Please don’t call me twin, I don’t look like you (Yeah)
Bad bitch and I’m cocky, make a hatin’ ho uncomfortable (Ugly)
She think she first, gotta be April Fools
Bitches wanna be messy, so I came in this bitch with a broom
Pretty bitch throwin’ Bs up, Hellcat with my feet up
Face card don’t decline, JT Visa
Me and nigga never parted, don’t be silly, ho
He like my ass and say I remind him of Jacki-O
I’m gorgeous (Yeah), you stray, ho (Yeah)
That’s why he walk you like a dog (Yeah), you a stray, ho (Yeah)
I’m gorgeous (Yeah), bitch, why? (Yeah)
Who the fuck said pretty girls don’t fight?

Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous), huh?

Loose change that could by me new [?] (Ah, ah)
Make him bust in some Loubs, I ain’t even have to touch on him
Face card screamin’ trap me with a baby (Gorgeous)
Oh, you rich, but you don’t trick? It’s crazy
Keep it classy then nasty
She ain’t a CityGirl, bitch borin’ if you ask me
You say you love me, nigga, show me with a Van Cleef
Hop up on that dick and I ride it like a Banshee
Blue strips every day, it’s lucrative
Hatin’ hoes got me in they mouth more than hooka tips (Ho)
You can look, just don’t touch, girl, [?]
Got him single for this pussy front row like I’m Kiki

Six figures for a Patek, it’s gorgeous (It’s gorgeous)
Diamond links on my wrist full of pointers (Pointers)
Cuban link on my neck, this bitch gorgeous (This bitch gorgeous)
We eat the most, bust tint, it’s enormous (You know that)
I love staring at my bitch, she gorgeous (She gorgeous)
She love staring at my kit, it’s gorgeous (It’s gorgeous)
My lil’ bitch say her favorite words is: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)
I keep talkin’ to my wrist like: You gorgeous (You gorgeous)

Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
Gorgeous (Gorgeous), you gorgeous (You gorgeous)
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Lyrics Skilla Baby – Millionaire ft. Luh Tyler

Skilla Baby – Millionaire ft. Luh Tyler [Official Video] Lyrics
Stream Skilla Baby’s new mixtape We Eat the Most Reloaded on all platforms – OUT NOW https://wetm.lnk.to/WETMReloaded …

Check out the lyrics the full song with official video to listen to, Learn to sing this song. available for all countries Song lyrics not found: Submit the lyrics of this song.In the form! letras2.com
[formidable id=4]
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