It's Okay

Shyne

Geah, uhh, uhh, uhh

Uh-huh, like that

Geah, uhh

Ten bricks nigga in the air, hold 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 of a V&E

I'm like homes in Charlie's Angels, y'all never seein me

Heavenly indeed, measure me a key

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 pro, 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 bustin your iron

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 hard 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 snotty with him, it's ok

Shyne

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 try to pussy bootchie coochie, I'm in that

Kingpin raps, I spit 'em, fed NARC's, I dip 'em

Bentley and large rims spinnin, the 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

Chorus

Shyne

From hip-hop to them hot blocks

It ain't never gon' stop; well maybe for three days

but then I'll return, more blacks to burn for more yea

Get them (??) sittin up on Broadway (geah)

Livin the life, ridin on Twinkies

Thirty inch rims spinnin, bitches is grinnin

Roscoe on my left, wonderin where the pussy at

so I can scheme the dope, get the pussy and float

Big things, live from the Empire State

where niggaz, live in fear of a 8-48

Don't owe my favors, jewelers deliberate

Shops have me spinnin like you was doin a figure eight

Gun in your mouth bitch, got a bitter taste

Push up hard on the arms - uhh, bitter face

Guerilla pimpin indeed

Shit I'm like a perm;

somethin every girl in the ghetto need

Chorus -2x