Verse 1
Affirmative, no further furnishing is needed
I believe we are completed, dig?
We all in agreement on the wallpaper
Happy with the color scheme
Welcome to the crib
A two family habitat for humanity
With a view of the insanity…live
My vida loca was built like Bob Veela via God
He architected I ark’d it what I harbored
Jimmy Carter from Chicago’s west side
Finish my construction
Now we hold the coming like contracepts
I’m conscience ‘cept the cons are kept
From conversations held with the satan on my shoulder
Which led to steps that kept me lookin’ over the shoulder
Like chauffeurs where my angels at?
Painful yet, Merry I ain’t Jerry Garcia mont yeah
But I’m grateful
Church

Hook
We just might be OK, after all
Sun gon’ shine
On this day

Verse 2
It’s fittin’ to get heavy as heaven I am Atlas at this
Managed to balance massive masses
Pon my back without tiltin’ my glasses
This is not pilfered from passes
Of OG’s, this is so me
Ask us, Mini-mansion, lil’ homie, lil’ boney but the rhymes is phat
In fact, just like a Rochester customer
God bless the mothers and younger brothers are hustlers
Cause she don’t wanna sob at his wake
Be he wanna follow in his steps
Bang his hat, learn his shapes, master his swagger
In the bathroom mirror
Cop a Chevy, steady mob in his place
It’s jut the problems we face
Look his moms in the face
And promise he’s straight

Hook
We just might be OK, after all
Sun gon’ shine
On this day

Verse 3
Then he leaves the house that love built
That her renovated that section 8 pays for
Well let’s pray for him, let the beat play for him
Put his struggles on display for him
Cause he gotta go and face the drama
With a different face from the one that he use to face his momma
If you look close you will see it consists of a smile that hurts
An ice grill and a trace of trauma, lil’ bit of his father
Another criterion that’s no different from a young Liberian
Who let the delirium weary him
Living in an inner-city out of his mind leery of reconciling
I’m cool, I don’t foretell best
I ain’t nicest MC, I ain’t Cornel West
I am Cornel Westside, Chi-town Rivera
Malcolm Xercise the demons, gangsta leanin’
Who traded in his koofi for a New Era
Chose a .44 over a motor board
I ain’t a credited institute graduate
I ain’t from Nazareth
My conception wasn’t immaculate
I ain’t master no calculus
A good addition to the rap ambiance
I back flipped on the mattress they slept on me on
One down Joe, knowing is half the battle, fighting temptation
Have an apple
Shake the snakes, pick the system, let’s get into it
Tabernacle

Hook
We just might be OK, after all
Sun don’t shine
On this day

We just, just might be…OK…OK

We just might be OK, after all
Sun don’t shine
On this day

We just, just might be…OK…OK