Forever Lyrics

Ooh la la bangladesh..

[Hook - Lloyd]
See a n**** like me gonna get money til I get rich
Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit
Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my misfit homes
And soon you gonna see just how crunk this s*** be once we get rich
Til then its back to hustlin with my misfits
Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the p***e..
Fifty songs tucked under the p***e

I keep a big old n**** beater heater
Its in the trunk of my four-door and my two seater
Im make them say skeeter skeeter
Keep up and grab the ball back just like I'm Derek Jeter
I know you want to f*** my hoe but you too scared to meet her
See you aint got enough bread to even start to treat her
The way a pimp did, and in the bed I'm even sweeter
I hustle, I got more Franklins in me than Aretha
If I had Oprah Winfrey I would marry her and keep her
I spit as much knowlege as preachers and teachers
Just as long as the message reach us we all fill up the bleachers
I'm the MJG, I get in yo' s***
I aint trying to run yo' clique, that be your friend so quick
Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage
f*** them long interviews, just give us the front page
Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust
Them lyrics that make the people say that he got nuts

Yeah man..
Sticky weed kickin in, big Ball steppin in
Straight flying when I hustle, thats how I represent
Bounce, if you feelin what I'm spitting up in your ear hole
I been rocking mics since I was 17 years old
Smoking up, drinking up, kicking dust, and f****** up
Everybody want a piece and we ain't got enough for us
Yeah, I touched a brick or two, pounds I done smoked a few
Got my bread and didn't do what the f*** I was supposed to do
Money blinds players, turns them into evil spirits
n***** die trying to live out these old rap lyrics
I try to give it to them just how it come to me
Real and unedited, not like it be on T.V
Be myself and dont be what those haters want me to be
Take the good the bad hit my knees set me free
Make the bad good, put that on my leather and wood
Cinderella with my fellas deep off in the hood

You need to stop sticking your hand out and trying to fold it
Turn around the broom handle and trying to hold it
It's plenty dirt to be swept, and leaves to be raked
Now you need to leave from my face, take heed to mistake
That you just made, thinking a player could get played
Thinking that a rapper could get wrapped and phone tapped
My whole life I learned the hard way to spot liars
And it seems like its usually the ones thats right by ya

Jumping up out the tip with pistols sittin up
f*** me? Watch my gun skeet like its bussing nuts
'Cept when it hit your cheek it burn then it split your cheek
Then come out the back of your head, now your just a memory
Graphic how I got it illustrated, rated triple X
n***** want to be the king, I dont give a f*** who's best
Just watch your mouth, talkin down in the south
I'm gonna let my nuts hang and start punching clowns out

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Living Legends (2004)
Album Intro You Don't Want Drama Straight Cadillac Pimpin' We Do It The Streets Mad Rapper (Interlude) Shot Off When It's On Trying to Get at You Baby Girl Get a Kit (Interlude) Forever Look at the Grillz Living Legends (Interlude) Don't Make Memphis City Blues Gangsta Confessions