40 Ounce Love - The Game, Just Liv

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