8Ball, MJG, Lloyd - Forever lyrics

Ooh la la bangladesh hey

See a nigga 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
Wit my misfit holmes
And soon you gonna see just how crunk
This shit be once we get rich
Til then it's back to
Hustlin with my misfit's deep, on a creep
Fifty zones tucked under the brougham
Fifty zones tucked under the brougham

I keep a big old nigga 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 fuck my ho
But you too scared to meet her
See you ain't 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' shit
I ain't trying to run yo' clique
That be your friend so quick
Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage
Fuck 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 nut

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 fucking 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
Fuck I was supposed to do
Money blinds players
Turns them into evil spirit's
Niggas 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 TV
Be myself and don't 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 nigga

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 it's usually the
Ones thats right by ya fIRE!

Jumping up out the tip with pistols sittin up
Fuck me? Watch my gun skeet
Like it's 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 niggas want to be the king
I don't give a fuck who's best
Just watch your mouth
Talkin down in the south
I'm gonna let my nuts hang
And start punching clowns out