Shyne It's OK Lyrics

Geah, uhh, uhh, uhh
Uh-huh, like that
Geah, uhh

Ten bricks nigga and an air-hole tec
It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne
Nothin but cum for these bitches, love none for these bitches
It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne

What's my motherfuckin name? Put a bullet in your brain
Leave your shirt stained, guns and cocaine
It's the best ever bein me
I'm like homes from Charlie's Angels, y'all never seein me
Heavenly indeed, pleasure me a ki'
My moms was a virgin when she had me
I rock flows, top O's, better yet, sell it wet
Tape ki's to bitches, I need the riches
Scene switches, big bitches, to hide snitches
Smile for the feds as they take pictures
It's the young G speakin; leavin niggaz leakin
Shots repeatin; around the clip somethin bound to hit
Y'all motherfuckers was counterfeit
Eat a dick and choke, as I sniff coke
Shyne Po, watch how you pronounce the shit
G'z up, hoes down while you motherfuckers bounce to this

[Chorus: Shyne]
Before your dog you're dyin and bust in your eye and
Take the stand you're lyin, it's ok
If you cook it, cut it, watch - flooded
Hit niggaz in public and bitches love it, it's ok
If you high right now as they play this in the club
lookin for somethin to fuck, it's ok
If you startin with her, it's ok
If you startin with him, it's ok

With so much blocks in the N-Y-C
to burn 'em all down is kinda hard for me
But uhh, somehow, someway
I keep takin over motherfucker's gates like every single day
It's, the, rap, singer
Slash, coke, crack, slinger
Sling crack sling smack sling dick to dingbats
that Prada Gucci Hoochie coochie, I'm in that
Kingpin raps, I spit 'em, fed NARC's, I dip 'em
Bentley Arnage rims spinnin, this shit is sickenin
My rhymes, my flow, I got all the symptoms
Rinks and links and trips to Harry Winston
Born sinner; think that model bitch I'm with is slim?
You chances of seein me are slimmer
I was through with it, before y'all knew what to do with it
Put my finger in the ground and turn the world around


From hip-hop to them hot blocks
It ain't never gon' stop; well maybe for three days
but then I'll return, more blocks to burn for more yay'
Get them whores yay' sittin up on Broadway (geah)
Livin the life, fryin' on Twinkies
Thirty inch rims spinnin, bitches is grinnin
Roscoe on my lap, wonderin where the pussy at
so I can skeet in her throat, get the pussy and float
Big things, live from the Empire State
where niggaz, live in fear of a 8-48
Done all my favors, jurors deliberate
Shops have me spinnin like you was doin a figure eight
Gun in your mouth bitch, got a bitter taste
Choke hard on the arm - uhh, bitter face
Guerilla pimpin indeed
Shit I'm like a perm;
somethin every girl in the ghetto need

[Chorus] - 2X
Thanks to taylor for submitting It's OK Lyrics.

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