paroles de chanson Me OK - Young Jeezy
First
they
tell
ya
"Motherfucker,
trap
or
die",
that
me
OK
Mister
whip
or
not
and
get
a
half
a
pie,
that
me
OK
Mister
if
I'm
talkin'
you
should
listen,
game
is
free
OK
Mister
got
two
whole
ones
and
two
half
ones,
yeah
that's
three
OK
Leave
up
out
of
here
with
two
bad
ones,
yeah,
that's
me
OK
Mister
re-in'
up
with
'bout
two
phantoms,
yeah,
that's
me
OK
On
that
Avion
to
the
head,
hey,
but
me
OK
Never
put
a
bitch
before
my
bread,
hey,
now
me
OK
I'm
a
fool
on
that
Avion,
snow
be
on
that
liquor
Approach
me
if
you
want
to,
I
will
smoke
ya
like
a
Swisha
You
know
my
game
tizight
you
know
that's
all
tizzop
Presidential
day
day,
looking
like
two
blocks
They
ain't
know
2Pac
when
he
was
on
Death
Row
All
black
glizzock,
that
40
says
leggo
All
my
niggas
is
'bout
it,
all
my
bitches
is
with
it
One
call
that's
all,
choppers
pay
him
a
visit
Real
nigga
fo'
sho',
got
a
fetish
for
dough
34
a
unit,
nine
hundred,
an
O
Break
'em
down
into
zips,
that's
a
hell
of
a
flip
Had
'em
now
they
gone,
guess
I'm
takin'
a
trip
When
L.A.
Reid
was
in
office
made
some
history
up
in
Def
Jam
If
Jizzle
ain't
droppin',
nigga,
what
the
fuck
is
Def
Jam?
I
know
you
heard
how
your
boy
bossed
up
at
Atlantic
Boss
shit,
might
just
drop
my
next
album
on
Atlantic
I
really
hope
you
bitches
ready,
Vice-prezzy
and
his
Presi
Got
some
shit
up
in
my
bezzy,
So
what
ya
sayin'?
My
wrist
is
heavy
All
white,
penthouse,
yeah,
like
the
one
on
Belly
With
a
brown
skin
thing
swear
to
God
she
look
like
Kelly
Two
door
Rolls
is
how
I'm
rollin',
plus
you
know
a
nigga
totin'
Keep
that
street
nigga
paper,
rubber
band
it,
it
ain't
foldin'
First
the
XXL,
read
about
me
in
the
Forbes
That's
a
long
way
from
trappin'
in
that
4-door
Accord
Wassup
Snow
can
eyeball
a
seven,
yeah
you
best
believe
without
the
scale
I
just
want
the
mansions
and
the
riches,
yeah
without
the
jail
You
can
call
me
postman,
don't
go
somewhere
without
some
mail
In
and
out
in
20
minutes,
you
best
believe
I'm
makin'
bail
Put
you
on
designer
watches,
put
you
on
designer
frames
Had
you
cashin'
out,
payin'
for,
you
can't
pronounce
the
name
Had
that
Murcielago,
it
was
green
like
margaritas
Sold
yayo,
I
sold
albums,
might
as
well
sell
some
tequila
Dropped
so
many
Lambos,
thought
I
was
a
Lam
ambassador
Dropped
so
many
Rollies,
niggas
thought
I
owned
the
Rollie
store
Snow
it's
been
a
while,
yeah
you
know
them
streets
missed
you
I
don't
eat,
sleep,
or
shit
without
my
mothafuckin'
pistol
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