Life Long (Feat. Rick Ross & Nipsey Hussle) [Prod. By Boi1da/The Maven Boys]
So self-made Shout-out my Crenshaw niggas Them down-south niggas Yeah...
I pray I never die a broke nigga Terrell Owens, owing all the dope dealers Sometimes I glorify the finer things Because I didn't see them minor things And the games are known by the refs Restaurants, I'm even greeted by the chefs Hangin' with the Jews, you'll get the meat on us Bangin' with them tools, you'll get to see a bonus All I wanted was a chance to celebrate We in the belly of the beast Collect calls from Gunplay I pray one day I get to see some peace But I'mma ride until the wheels won't Anything Double-M I will kill for Shots fired – blocka, blocka, case closed Mexican numbers, talkin' them pesos
Yeah – so many say I'm livin' life wrong Yeah – I work hard and I fight strong Young nigga, I'm just tryna live my life long Young nigga, I'm just tryna live my life long Work all night, party all night Count money all night, then I smoke all night Young nigga, I'm just tryna live my life long Young nigga, I'm just tryna live my life long
Five in the morning, I already made five stacks Them Satchel Paige diamonds, yeah, them bitches pitch black Tried to put your city on your back and that shit cracked Consider me a Caterpillar crane, gift-wrapped About to take the load off, lifestyle so boss I could pay your costs, all my old hoes lost Blowin' weed while she blowin' me, you getting' blown off And I set the bar high, hopin' you can pole-vault I am not a rapper, just a real nigga Who accidentally be rhymin' when speakin' on how I feel Shout-out to everybody that's fuckin' with me for real I got that fire flow and these bitches they know the drill My style is all natural, bars is all factual On the verse I'mma tax you, I spin like I'm on an axel Survivin' even though I'm sick, Magic Johnson money shit Laughin' to the bank, but I ain't with that funny shit
I plan to live my life a rich nigga That's known to always keep a clip with him Talkin' on the Bluetooth in the 6, nigga Lookin' like a Westside Crip, nigga I threw the blunt ‘cause she ain't wrap it right She ain't attracted to the passive type She told you “no” ‘cause you ain't ask her right I'm getting' head at the traffic light Smokin' on the kush, that's the average night Money way taller than the average height Fuck tryna live an average life Being broke'll make a nigga snap like a plastic knife Fresher – Mac-11 on the dresser All I know is I'm gon' get this shit together Pressure – I know you heard the expression Desperate times call for desperate measures Lyrics found <a href="http://phonelyrics.com">here</a>