OK Baby Money
"OK - Baby Money" is a hip-hop track released in 2021. The lyrics explore themes of resilience, ambition, and the hustle for success, reflecting the struggles and triumphs of urban life. Musically, it features a catchy beat and rhythmic flows. The song resonates with a younger audience, highlighting the grind and aspirations of contemporary youth. #HipHop
[Intro]
(Look out, Veno)
(Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients)
[Chorus]
I feel like crime, feel like Brodie off a thirty, okay
Forty deuce in Wockhardt, I'm James Worthy, okay
Last nigga played with me, he got murdered, okay
They sent a lot 'cause they get paid in a hurry, okay
Trackhawk do a hundred, eight seconds, no way
Ain't got no pussy in four days, we been gettin' more pape'
I don't fuck with yellow gold, my kit look like rosé
He upped his pole, he ain't blow, now he gone, okay
[Verse 1]
Two weeks, four states, I been thumbin' through a bag
Just to see my nigga smile, would get a hundred niggas whacked
Kill your shooter and your boss, nigga, ain't no gettin' back
Niggas see the train leavin', now they tryna get on track
Guess I was 'posed to leave 'em, couple niggas loyal, but the most was greedy
I pulled three hundred out the bank to make sure I'm legal
The work came from out the way, this bitch from Costa Rica
The top down in the snow to make sure they see me
When y'all was pourin' all that green, we was pourin' Keisha
They asked me how I live so long 'cause I know the reaper
My nigga play around with keys like he know Alicia
I dropped out and made a million, now I ho the teachers
(Look out, Veno)
(Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients)
[Chorus]
I feel like crime, feel like Brodie off a thirty, okay
Forty deuce in Wockhardt, I'm James Worthy, okay
Last nigga played with me, he got murdered, okay
They sent a lot 'cause they get paid in a hurry, okay
Trackhawk do a hundred, eight seconds, no way
Ain't got no pussy in four days, we been gettin' more pape'
I don't fuck with yellow gold, my kit look like rosé
He upped his pole, he ain't blow, now he gone, okay
[Verse 1]
Two weeks, four states, I been thumbin' through a bag
Just to see my nigga smile, would get a hundred niggas whacked
Kill your shooter and your boss, nigga, ain't no gettin' back
Niggas see the train leavin', now they tryna get on track
Guess I was 'posed to leave 'em, couple niggas loyal, but the most was greedy
I pulled three hundred out the bank to make sure I'm legal
The work came from out the way, this bitch from Costa Rica
The top down in the snow to make sure they see me
When y'all was pourin' all that green, we was pourin' Keisha
They asked me how I live so long 'cause I know the reaper
My nigga play around with keys like he know Alicia
I dropped out and made a million, now I ho the teachers
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