Forever Lyrics - Living Legends - Eightball & Mjg

Ooh la la, Bangladesh 

Heyyy 

See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich 

Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit 

Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes 

And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich 

'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits 

Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone 

Fifty songs tucked under the prone 

I keep a big old nigga beater heater 

It's in the trunk of my four-door and my two seater 

I'm 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 hoe 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 M J G, 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 nuts 

See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich 

Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit 

Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes 

And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich 

'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits 

Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone 

Fifty songs tucked under the prone 

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 spirits 

Niggaz 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 

See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich 

Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit 

Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes 

And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich 

'Til then it's back to hustlin with my misfits 

Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone 

Fifty songs tucked under the prone 

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 

Niggaz 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 

See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich 

Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit 

Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes 

And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich 

'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits 

Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone 

Fifty songs tucked under the prone