Luh Tyler Ft Skilla Baby – Okay Bet, Pt. 2 Lyrics

Okay Bet, Pt. 2 Lyrics by Luh Tyler Ft Skilla Baby

[Intro: Luh Tyler]
(You aren’t even a cold breeze for my man, Taz) Yeah, nigga, ayy
Ayy, I’m finna walk this bitch, nigga
Yeah, gang

[Chorus: Luh Tyler]
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)

[Verse 1: Luh Tyler]
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

[Verse 2: Skilla Baby]
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)

[Verse 3: Luh Tyler & Skilla Baby]
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)

[Verse 4: Skilla Baby]
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)
[Chorus: Luh Tyler]
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)

[Outro: Luh Tyler]
Ski