Текст песни OK - Rylo Rodriguez , Young Stoner Life Records , FN DaDealer

Might get on that bitch with you, know what I'm sayin'?
Naw, for real, nigga
Nigga goddamn see all that, but it don't even matter
See all this shit that a nigga did and went through
Nigga, you know what I'm sayin'?
Huh, woah
Jumped off the porch into the streets just like a G
Rubber bands up in my pants, that's why my pockets deep
We been pushin' P, talkin' 'bout exotic weed
I won't sell 'em high 'cause I can get 'em for the cheap
I just keep havin' these dreams, they tryna kill me in my sleep
I spent thousands on these jeans, OK
I keep pourin' up this lean, I'm probably pissin' pure codeine
My cup dirty, but I'm clean, OK
Who the fuck said I was fallin' off? No way
Niggas bitches, they get cops involved, they got ho ways
I been tryna lock her jaws, in hеr mouth like Colgate
Me and partnеr was breakin' laws, he just caught a cold case
Turned dreams into reality, I grinded, should be glad for me
They keep tryna tear me down, tryna build a masterpiece
Fuck them niggas and whoever say they after me
It's gon' be a whole lotta casualties
Better not think 'bout jackin' me
Killers right on side me
Jefe tweakin' out, say he itchin' for a body
I ain't nothin' like DeJ Loaf, please don't try me
I ain't nothin' like DeJ Loaf, please don't try me
Jumped off the porch into the streets just like a G
Rubber bands up in my pants, that's why my pockets deep
We been pushin' P, talkin' 'bout exotic weed
I won't sell 'em high 'cause I can get 'em for the cheap
I just keep havin' these dreams, they tryna kill me in my sleep
I spent thousands on these jeans, OK
I keep pourin' up this lean, I'm probably pissin' pure codeine
My cup dirty, but I'm clean, OK
If you come in this hood and you ain't with me
You'd probably get robbed
Took some money out the bank just for some lean
I was havin' withdrawals
With a model, she ain't touch her plate on a date
On purpose she starvin' (Ain't nobody rat on you)
Your fault, you bringin' up bodies in songs you recording
Third strike, can't make a home run
He ain't safe, he need a handout
That's your shooter and he ain't hit shit
Nigga had a switch, y'all odd to branch off
Know hood bitches sell clothes just like the stores
But they got'em cheaper then'em
Our stylist was the booster
Most of our clothes still had the beepers in 'em
I'm in the hood by the church
Granny said no speakin' when the deacon enter
But we stay at he drive forty minutes home
When he done preachin' in it
Had to cut you off, they say you told
You took the stand and pointed the finger
Still love, know I don't hate you, bitch, I'm disappointed in you
He jumped off the porch into the streets just like a G
Rubber bands inside my pants, that's why my pockets deep
A thousand in a week, I'm talkin' exotic weed
And I was so high 'cause I can get 'em for the cheap
I just keep havin' these dreams, they tryna kill me in my sleep
I spent thousands on these jeans, OK
I keep pourin' up this lean, I'm probably pissin' pure codeine
My cup dirty, but I'm clean, OK
E E!
OK