[Intro]

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

[Verse 1]

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 Lupi go slide

Cause she can make my pieces fit the part till it's music for life

(yeah, yeah)

If management's my leg then my Susan's my spine

I'd frolic 'round their wallet with stupider times

I leave my ma' to go fuck the booty and wine

Then I come back home and cuss and she'd soothe every cry

That's no lie (That's no lie)

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 [?]

[?](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

[Bridge]

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

[Verse 2]

Ever since this thirty cap 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 biz

I called some whores I once adored, 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

[Outro]

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