Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Okay With Me’ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Holiday Season, bitch!
Don’t play with me, bad bitches they stay with me
Wanna pop bottles all night with me, all day with me
Okay with me!
That’s okay with me, yeah that’s okay with me
Bring that shit back!
Don’t play with me, bad bitches they stay with me
Wanna pop bottles all night with me, all day with me
Okay with me!
That’s okay with me, yeah that’s okay with me
White boys, dope boys, ballplayers, peons
Pull up in Europeans
Back-to-back like it’s a re-run
White boys, dope boys, ballplayers, peons
Pull up in Europeans
Back-to-back like it’s a re-run
My pull up game is disgusting
You pussy niggas disgust me
Smoking on loud in this mustard
Like Hammer: can’t touch me
Like desert loud got bricks in Memphis
?
Like a nigga in a casket I’m fresh to death
Intercept a whole shipment
Man Tity Boi on that pimp shit!
Like fast food, I eat quick
I told y’all, I got sweet bricks
I’m ready, like master disaster
Eenie Minie Moe, which car can go faster
My trap house I’m king of this castle
Yellow bitch fine and her ass a little fatter
Gucci Mane ain’t never change champagne in my campaign
We flyer than 2 private planes
It’s 2 Chainz and Gucci Mane
Okay with me, yeah that’s okay with me
Shawty got them crab legs I got that Old Bay with me
And I got that K with me, I wish they would try bitch!
Some niggas selling wolf tickets and I won’t even buy them shits!
I go hard competing, my bankroll conceited
Take you home complete her
Then I skeet her and delete her
Do it with no compassion
Do it without her asking
Yeah I’m from Atlanta
But my jewelry from Alaska!
I was born to be what I was gonna be
Forgiato’s up under me
Concrete up on the deck
Gave the rear-view mirror a heart attack boom!
Bottom. Name a nigga out here hotter
Damn, that’s one of my problems
Living like it’s no tomorrow