I’m Good Remix

By Clipse

On Illustrious

Thumbnail

[Chorus]

You can find me in the streets, even in the drought

My mattress is full

Why shouldn't I be out

Hey buddy, I'm good

(what they tell you?) I'm good

(what they tell you?) I'm good

(what she tell you?) I'm good

(what you see?)

Two hundred dolla jeans with my favorite patch

Pullin up my ride hell yea the rims match!

What they tell you? I'm good

(what they tell you?) I'm good

(what they tell you?) I'm good

(what she tell you?) I'm good

(what you see?)


[Verse: Pusha T]

The indictment's unsealed, all the lawyers paid

To my players getting money, you our serenade

In that German Nazi, them Italian Mobsters

Talking Benzes and Ferraris if you couldn't follow

They say I'm underrated, I say that's overstated

I couldn't tell, I thought a kilo meant I finally made it

Then came 10, 20 came quick

Walked out the kitchen, face white as Taylor Swift's

Me and my Louis loafers, maybe my Gucci Vans

Beach bum kinda mortgage kicking through the sand

Styling on em (censored), can't fade the brothers

GI Joe, wrap my body on that Complex cover

Automatic starting, frames Chrome Heartin'

AMG kitted, roof is on a milk carton, yeah!

This is the life, fever gone but you could still get right cause I'm good!


[Chorus]


[Verse: Rick Ross]

Ross!

Never sit so it's caviar carryout

Extended clip in the fog, ya gotta air it out

He's so flamboyant, put a fan on him

I'm a blade chopper, black Land Rover

Know I'm looking good, got on too much ice

Open the sunroof, I'm living once twice

Know my sneakers suede

Of course my reefer great, I got it off illegal aid

I'm flyer than a eagle lane

I don't need a belt, damnit cause the money fit

I don't even tie my shoes I know I'mma trip

I'm a stunna tho, Murcielago on money gold

You put her out, I put her onto my bungalow

I'm looking good, I'm feeling better

I made Forbes 6 point M letter

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Boss!


[Chorus]


[Verse: Malice]

Yo!

Mo' money mo' problems, that's what Big said

But we ain't care, we was all about that quick bread

Buying bags for every (censored) I misled

F430 got them caught up in the spider web

Before we met, baby girl was into simple tastes

Til' I put her on that jet, told her pick a place

Cartier wristwear, let her pick a face

Daddy money falling out the sky like it's ticker tape

But this is give and take, you can't call it tricking

As long as the car is not the kids tuition

Louis V, double G, read the inscription

Sitting on Santa's lap, every day is Christmas

Haters keep your distance, waving the four fiver

A twinkle of the eye, smoke em like Cohibas

So here's to senoritas in them superficial love affairs

Million dollar crib, and it's laid like baby hairs


[Chorus]


[Outro]

I'm looking good, I'm looking good

I'm looking good, I'm looking good

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah