40 Ounce Love (feat. Just Liv)

This is us

Impalas parked next to Bentley trucks

4-Benz supposed to be here, I should dig him up

But since I can't, we gon' hold this Henny up

Fifteen years of greatness

Fifteen years of hatin'

Fifteen years of patience

That's what I had to practice

So I ain't end up back on that county jail mattress

Fuck all this rap shit

In Compton, we in the dirt

Sticks on us like a cactus

Cincinnati, y'all, closin' on the third strap

Gave two away to some fans

This my third hat

Running this marathon

I'm on my third lap

Where my key to the city

Don't y'all think I deserve that?

LA Sheriffs left Ryan on the curb flat

37 shots, so I'm on the 133rd strap

40-ounce love

White Air Force 1's in the mud

Euro front end on the Cutlass like "What's up?"

See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug

40-ounce love

**** gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood

Money falling out your pocket while you sellin' drugs

And we drink a Olde English, grab a cup, I'll fill it up for you

You outta gas, I'll fill it up for you

You surrounded in the club, we pullin' up for you

You went to jail, I took that money, 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

And stay rich till 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 Code, he in the pen on his toes

How you talking people into transferring you to a Level 4?

He got twenty months left, that shit movin' hella slow

Twenty blunts, half a pound a day until they let him go

I give him thirty racks every time he touch the surface

I'm startin' to think this **** goin' to jail on purpose

Either way, I gotta keep givin' you

40-ounce love

White Air Force 1's in the mud

Euro front end on the Cutlass like "What's up?"

See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug

40-ounce love

**** gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood

Money falling out your pocket while you sellin' drugs

And we drink a Olde English, grab a cup, I'll fill it up for you