The Game, Just Liv - 40 Ounce Love lyrics
[The Game, Just Liv - 40 Ounce Love lyrics]
This is us
Impalas parked next to Bentley trucks
Four bins supposed to be here
I should dig 'em up
But since I can't, I'ma hold this Henny up
15 years of greatness
15 years of hatin'
15 years of patience
That's what I had to practice
So I ain't end up back
On that country jail mattress
Fuck all this rap shit
In Compton we in the dirt
Sticks on us like a cactus
Cincinnati on, closin' on the third strap
Gave two away to some fans, this my third hat
Runnin' this marathon, I'm on my third lap
Where my key to the city
Don't y'all think I deserve that?
L.A. sheriffs left Ryan on the curb, flat
37 shots, so I'm on 133rd strapped
40oz love, white Air Force Ones in the mud
Young front end on the Cutlass like
"What's up?"
See my dead homie mama
Hop out and give her a hug
40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one
Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket
While you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Old English, grab a cup
I fill it up for you
You outta gas? I fill it up for you
You surrounded in the club? We
Pullin' up for you
You went to jail? I took that money
I put it up for you
You still got your hand out like
I ain't did enough for you
You put on that snitch jacket
And it stuck to you
On my life
I love you but I can't fuck with you
I gotta stick to the code
Never slip, never fold
Stay rich 'til I'm old
Love my kids on my soul
Both my baby mamas know if I go
Open the safe and give 'em all the gold
And my cousin, Magic Cold
He in the pen on his toes
How you talk them people into transferrin'
You to a level 4?
He got 20 months left
That shit movin' hella slow
20 blunts
Half a pound a day until they let him go
I give him 30 racks every
Time he touch the surface
I'm startin' to think this nigga
Goin' to jail on purpose
Either way
I gotta keep givin' you 40oz love
White Air Force Ones in the mud
Young front end on the Cutlass like
"What's up?"
See my dead homie mama
Hop out and give her a hug
40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one
Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket
While you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Old English, grab a cup
I fill it up for you
Impalas parked next to Bentley trucks
Four bins supposed to be here
I should dig 'em up
But since I can't, I'ma hold this Henny up
15 years of greatness
15 years of hatin'
15 years of patience
That's what I had to practice
So I ain't end up back
On that country jail mattress
Fuck all this rap shit
In Compton we in the dirt
Sticks on us like a cactus
Cincinnati on, closin' on the third strap
Gave two away to some fans, this my third hat
Runnin' this marathon, I'm on my third lap
Where my key to the city
Don't y'all think I deserve that?
L.A. sheriffs left Ryan on the curb, flat
37 shots, so I'm on 133rd strapped
40oz love, white Air Force Ones in the mud
Young front end on the Cutlass like
"What's up?"
See my dead homie mama
Hop out and give her a hug
40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one
Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket
While you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Old English, grab a cup
I fill it up for you
You outta gas? I fill it up for you
You surrounded in the club? We
Pullin' up for you
You went to jail? I took that money
I put it up for you
You still got your hand out like
I ain't did enough for you
You put on that snitch jacket
And it stuck to you
On my life
I love you but I can't fuck with you
I gotta stick to the code
Never slip, never fold
Stay rich 'til I'm old
Love my kids on my soul
Both my baby mamas know if I go
Open the safe and give 'em all the gold
And my cousin, Magic Cold
He in the pen on his toes
How you talk them people into transferrin'
You to a level 4?
He got 20 months left
That shit movin' hella slow
20 blunts
Half a pound a day until they let him go
I give him 30 racks every
Time he touch the surface
I'm startin' to think this nigga
Goin' to jail on purpose
Either way
I gotta keep givin' you 40oz love
White Air Force Ones in the mud
Young front end on the Cutlass like
"What's up?"
See my dead homie mama
Hop out and give her a hug
40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one
Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket
While you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Old English, grab a cup
I fill it up for you