That’s OK lyrics

[Hook]
n*ggas feel me from Miami to Chicago
London to Morroco
n*ggas claim they rich but I'm the brokest n*gga I know
I just play the lotto
Gangstas wanna ride doe
With they guns out tryna plot like blat, blat, blat, blat, f*ck your problems b*tch
I'm plottin like a psycho
b*tches call me boppo
I like all my pus*y with some good head on the side doe
Mercy, mercy on me, with no Murciélago
b*tches blow me like a trombone
I got shawties on the side doe that's OK (that's OK)
I get hoes and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK)
b*tch I'm broke and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts)
n*ggas feel me cuz my team is so colossal
London to Morroco
Soon as I get rich I'm off to mexico for tacos
She just wants some combo, but I ain't got no time doe
I just wanna grab that gun and blat, blat, blat, blat blow my mind out
b*tch could trip and that's OK
She ain't sh*t and that's OK (thats OK, that's OK)
Oh b*tch I'm different that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK)

[Verse 1]
They say he stuntin hard for a n*gga with no job ye?
When he get that car get that necklace get them broads ye?
He think he a star sign them posters up and movies shows and late nights at the studios and f*ckin all the groupie hoes(g-g-groupie hoes!)
Drinkin all the henny gettin faded huh
I dont drink no vodka but Moscato thats her favorite huh
Two Murciélago's in my driveway with the baddest chicks
They callin me they daddy pimp and then I woke up mad as sh*t
Hopped up bout the bedroom turn my motherf*cking swag on
Supercallan*ggaristicesexpeallamagnum
Double cups and twisted think I'm trippin b*tch n that's OK
Pray for me if thats the case someone go get pastor mase
They say he wild for a n*gga with no burner ye?
Man he pretty down for someone we never heard of ye?
Then along came joyner his subordinates dont get heard in ye
I usually dont get turned up yeah
But this is what they want
[Hook]
n*ggas feel me from Miami to Chicago
London to Morocco
n*ggas claim they rich but I'm the brokest n*gga I know
I just play the lotto
Gangstas wanna ride doe
With they guns out tryna plot like blat, blat, blat, blat, f*ck your problems b*tch
I'm plottin like a psycho
b*tches call me boppo
I like all my pus*y with some good head on the side doe
Mercy, mercy on me, with no Murciélago
b*tches blow me like a trombone
I got shawties on the side doe that's OK (that's OK)
I get hoes and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK)
b*tch I'm broke and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts)
n*ggas feel me cuz my team is so colossal
London to Morroco
Soon as I get rich I'm off to mexico for tacos
She just wants some combo, but I ain't got no time doe
I just wanna grab that gun and blat, blat, blat, blat blow my mind out
b*tch could trip and that's OK
She ain't sh*t and that's OK (thats OK, that's OK)
Oh b*tch I'm different that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK)

[Verse 2]
They say he pretty fly for a n*gga that stay single eh?
All my b*tches whack now I'm back on christian mingle eh
Puffin on them cancer sticks I know it turn you off n sh*t
But all I do is stress and I can't get the devil offa me (o-offa me)
Stomping out the haters with no Tims on
All my insta crushes wanna keep me in the friend zone
Now it's back to hustlin got no cable or no water
So i'm selling all the cars I stole I might just sell some bars I wrote
I'm from outer space different species of reptilian
Supercallan*ggaristicesexpeallalien
Flying through the atmosphere, cruising on you that's OK
Pour some liquor back and pray for all the soldiers passed away
They say he made it for a n*gga that ain't stopping ye?
Made it out the hood ended right back in the projects ye?
Wish a n*gga would try to get me then I'm plotting
Yeah my chain says it's dead silence, yeah, with flawless stones and diamonds yeah
[Hook]
n*ggas feel me from Miami to Chicago
London to Morocco
n*ggas claim they rich but I'm the brokest n*gga I know
I just play the lotto
Gangstas wanna ride doe
With they guns out tryna plot like blat, blat, blat, blat, f*ck your problems b*tch
I'm plottin like a psycho
b*tches call me boppo
I like all my pus*y with some good head on the side doe
Mercy, mercy on me, with no Murciélago
b*tches blow me like a trombone
I got shawties on the side doe that's OK (that's OK)
I get hoes and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK)
b*tch I'm broke and that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts)
n*ggas feel me cuz my team is so colossal
London to Morocco
Soon as I get rich I'm off to mexico for tacos
She just wants some combo, but I ain't got no time doe
I just wanna grab that gun and blat, blat, blat, blat blow my mind out
b*tch could trip and that's OK
She ain't sh*t and that's OK (thats OK, that's OK)
Oh b*tch I'm different that's OK (that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK, that's OK, that's OK, that sh*ts, that sh*ts, that's OK)