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    St. Lunatics / Lyrics

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    "Okay" Lyrics

    St. Lunatics feat. Murphy Lee

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    St. Lunatics and we here now, we never give up
    Swallowin Cris' 'til we spit up, put your shit up 'cause now
    We navigatin, wood grain, hood slang, collaboratin
    God over satan, no debatin, so I'm celebratin
    This new life, off the block buyin stock
    Divin off the dock in Bangkok, I used to slang rock
    And it was so hard, but now the wallet sport a gold card
    Bitches goin nuts when the rims hit the boulevard
    Hustle hard, the whole inside glowin
    From the T.V.s, diamonds went from hard to see to 3-d
    Double VD, bubble Lex with the CD
    Puffin seaweed, I'm free, hit the slope and ski
    DC to France, finance is too advanced
    Wit' plans to 'cause a trance, money stands yellin "romance!"
    I never stop comin, gunnin, runnin and sunnin
    With Cuda spinnin them hun'neds on hun'neds spinnin and blunted

    [(Chorus - Ali) 2x]
    I'm like okaaaay, niggas brought they cars out
    Thick broads out, all the stars out
    We ain't been here two minutes, mami already yellin
    "What a nigga gon' do with it, can we hop in the Infinite?"

    [Murphy Lee]
    Five deep in a Yuko', we struggle by toes, we still ghetto
    Float St. Louis, fake insurance, with no petro
    Nuts are heavy, Teddy Peddy tell 'em to let go
    'Tics are ready, Kevin Law tell 'em I said so
    I let go, sixteen out of sixty-four
    And the forty-eight bars left'll have you keekin for mo'
    Women be like "who do y'all think y'all are?"
    I'm Mr. pull up in big trucks, I'm far from a star
    'Cause I'm the sun, the reason why the day gon' come
    One out of five reasons why they hatin on us
    Tracks is like a gas tank, I fill 'em on up
    And my shows is robbery style, they givin it up
    I'm like a Michael Jackson concert, a milli' and up
    And these haters are like a comedy, be buggin me up
    They women treat me like cows, they be pullin my stuff
    And to get that up outta me more, they be suckin me off


    Now you know Mo, I stay equipped with a zip
    And the soles of my Air Force One's on e'ry trip
    And on e'ry whip I choose those D's to roll
    (What them niggas 'round the corner gon' start shit for?)
    When they know, oh, he keep a stash in the Nav'
    Pop a half and take out your Ave. on my behalf
    My whole staff love to laugh and count the money
    On the couch, hands in our pants like Al Bundy
    I love smoke ganjä, Monday to Monday
    And e'ry other day a nigga fuckin with gun play
    It's ok, since all the dogs out
    All my broads out, doin they bump they ?? out
    And we rollin, Henny holdin and blunt rollin
    Money foldin, been in more rings than Hulk Hogan
    It's official, Nelly Hummer clean as a whistle
    You boys signed to Fo' Reel, you doin your thug thizzle


    I'm like okaaaay
    This song was last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Jason Epperson, Ali K. Jones, Tohri Murphy Lee Harper, Robert Ky Juan Cleveland.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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