"Forever Ballin"

Ayy, X, this motherf*cker slap (Westside)

[Verse 1: DaBoii]
Big still ballin', bip Tu, rip Pac
A n*gga take my b*tch, then I gotta give props
Whole gang full of maids how we carry big mops
Keep that stick, seventeen for lil’ bro, Rick Fox
And you be selling b*tches dreams just to take off the draws
She let me f*ck without those dreams though she hate her a dog
No time to kick it with you bums, rather hang with a boss
Glock got a stick? Mine's too, n*gga, play me in golf
And I'll slide down your block with not a worry n*gga
You unworthy n*ggas, chop with me, get to purging n*ggas
He ain’t got no rhythm, up that hammer, he gon' j*rk with n*ggas
Deep end, have you sleepin' with them sturgeon, n*gga?
And f*ck a diss song, what's really the deal?
What I tote up in this Glock you really could feel
Between the opps and the Feds, it's hard to figure out
I ain't responding to no bust my shooters giving clout
And thank God for your b*tch, the way she giving mouth
Soon as I bust, she grab her purse, ain't gotta kick her out
I don't follow footsteps I took a different route
And even though I’m in my bag, I’m in your b*tch account
Opps want me in prison, boy, that gotta be tempting
My life, don't want me to live it, I ask the Lord for forgiveness
Pushing me to the limit, by time they give me a sentence
I told the judge, "Is you kidding?" Heaven, hope I attend it
And, Lord, you can take me out before they give me life
A young black man out that womb I had no civil rights
Your jeans ain’t falling while you toting then that pistol light
And I went from school, to skipping class but now I'm skipping flights
Porch wars, make n*ggas give it up if we get hit on dice
Tryna change my sound but when I do they taking bigger bites
Act like a n*gga, get treated like one, we trip on dykes
When you see me in that building then your b*tch hold tight
I be cutting n*ggas off like I'm Kimbo Slice
I be gigging like I'm 50 on that disco hype
Bling, bling, that’s the chain yeah disco lights
Handout for what? L-O-L, you can't no five
Or have five, you a b*tch, here's a tampon
Say he looking for me? Yeah, right, 'til that K slide
Want the address? I'm in the clouds, yeah, I'm that high
You ready or not? Get in this whip, yeah, don't ask why
Monkey laugh off that Heen thing, he-hoo-ha
Taking pics in the hood when you just roll by
Why I'm walking with this limp? That's a big ol' knot
And you gon' wish you put in work when we get your spot
We taking over everything and that's on gang
Who slid on who? I don't know, n*gga, no names
Ho games, what these n*ggas play swerving both lanes
Young wild n*ggas, can't tame and you won't tame, b*tch

[Verse 2: Yhung T.O.]
My brother died, my uncle died, I cried and I cried
If I said I left the streets, I lied and I lied
b*tch, I'm thuggin' 'til I die, ready to die
'Cause I'd rather be in Heaven then Hell and alive
Got a thirty on this b*tch, want smoke? Come and try me
All you n*ggas smoke is Reggie, Whitney and Bobby
All my n*ggas got bodies, murders and homi's
n*gga, you a dead man walking, you walking with zombies
Know I'm finna kill a n*gga, still don't carry the mask
'Cause if the police get behind me I'm hitting the dash
n*ggas thinking I'ma fail, I sit back and laugh
I'll hop out this b*tch rolling 'fore I sit and crash
Remember going two-ways on a thirty-two
n*ggas saying who they seen but don't never shoot
Either you sliding or you dying, so pack you a tool
If you ain't ready for that field then pack up and move
A lot of pain up in my body, I'm playing it cool
Last night I spazzed out, start acting a fool
When that Henny in my system, got nothing to lose
Catch a n*gga in them 'jects, he making the news
Still married to the streets, pending divorce
Too many skits up in that Hemi, I'm coppin' a Porsche
Put this Glock up in your hand, don't shoot, you a dork
Catch a body for the gang, we pay for the court
n*ggas knowing you a b*tch if you don't slide back
Lot of cameras and police where they be hiding at
All that typing you be doin', stand behind that
Same place you sent that at is where you dying at
n*gga steady off them drugs, lacking in the field
You know them n*ggas want you dead you still don't care to kill
Either you thuggin' in that field or you living in fear
All that "One Vallejo" sh*t, ain't want it up here
'Cause if a n*gga in his section we leaving 'em there
f*ck the cops, f*ck the opps, simple and clear
Catch you lackin' with your mans, we killing in pairs
See the devil in my eyes when I look in the mirror
Feeling like I still fail when I try
So I'm riding with this four-five right up on my side
On God, if it's time, n*ggas knowing I'ma slide
I'm a victim of the ghetto, I'm a product of design
They put stress up in the hood and hope every n*gga die
They put drugs in the hood and we still getting high
How the pain 'posed to heal when my brother got killed?
So I'm sliding for a purpose when I'm gliding in the field
It's a favor for a favor, eye for an eye
It's a Glock with a pole, try me and die
You got the books, you got the streets, school and slide
It's a life for a life, yours or mine
And when you dissing on them songs you playing with fire
n*ggas talk like they slide and they never gon' slide
And when you put that on God you playing with God
And we consider every opp better dead than alive

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