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Who would've thought forever would be forever Family is for life, I learnt that shit real talk Im content, what can I say I'm living good homie what can I say Imma just keep it simple Check In brutal times I would crucial provide Daddy told me turn my Nikes to suits and to tie And now if jobs are out of line I make [?] Cause she can make my pieces fit the part till it's music for life (yeah, yeah) If management's my leg then the suits are my spine I'd frolic 'round their wallet with stupider times I leave my ma' to go fuck with the booty and wine Then I come back home and cuss [?] Bad pains from the bad days Momma carried Chill so long, I gave the woman back pain But now I've rapped so long I run the fucking rap game Ma' give me a year or two I'll probably push this packed strain and get rich Hundred racks that I made in Japan Shoutout my brother Ben, he's back and he's blazing the gram I ain't really got no strap and it made me a man I told my label "Keep the cash I can pay the advance" It's 420 fucking fam We don't fuck around [?] Letras de canciones[?](Brothers double down) Bad Rapper, all my brothers on the buttons now I built it from the bottom up and real fans are fucking proud That's real talk I can't even explain it man, like the real fans would be proud, like My mum, my bro, my dad we smilin', we wealthy, we healthy For the rest of my life It's all for my fuckin' mum, that's the craziest shit Im always gon' be Susan's son Let me talk about these fucking facts Ever since this dirty cat was double size I lived in brick veneers but hung in dirty traps Let me keep it real, I was like the Bernie Mac Was laughing until i'm high and then I die, I go and burn the pack But fuck drugs (real talk) cause now we tryna burn it back Now I want my broski up in Uni doing learning stats And now my broski's on the deck and he can burn your track And he ain't gonna play your clubbing set unless it's thirty racks so fucking pay Lobster's on the table now (yeah) Went from mobsters to some doctors at the cable house Dropped a body bag and started up a label now And told virgin "Fuck all of these virgin rappers, pay me now, I'm blowing up" (mmh) My family's legit with beers? I [caught/called?] some whores [?], and now I hit and miss I need a little more, dishes, chores, little kids I adore Lord need a family and bigger crib, like dad does Super smart, stupid dumb Poppa said "Fuck em' all son, you still the one" And I know your group is big, and all your groupies fuck But come back home and get reminded that your Susan's son Your Susan's son And this music, is music man Go drive in this whip you deserve it man I want you to know i'm high as fuck in this studio Smilin my ass off And I hope if you are listening you are too Forever motherfucker From Letras Mania