[Prelude]
Write your name across the sky (With talking prelude)
[Verse 1]
To all my fallen squad,
write your name across the sky,
while I flame 1 to the brain and go get high,
and regardless of the pain I ain't gon cry.
Cause I cant neva let a f** n***a, see me stuck n***a,
hustle hard for the bucks n***a, thats a must n***a,
I done lost so many real n***as, I cant trust n***as,
so I keep my distance from n***as,
squad with me, bet I wont get touched n***a.
Got shots for him, shots for him,
n***as said f** Rocblock, send shots at them,
10 to 0 on the scoreboard, send shots again,
keep goin non stop till we drop lots of men,
And I swear I lost so many of my guys,
so I'm sippin remy, smokin 50s for my guys,
never let a n***a go on any of my guys, ain't nobody f**in with No Limit in my eyes.
Missin my n***as, Kushy and liquor, 4s of the lean,
R.I.P. Richie, hand me a swisher,
paint up a picture of me and the squad, still on the block before it was wrong,
and Kobe was gon, and Joc was still home.
Man I remember, now my heart is cold as December,
gettin money is the only thing on my agenda,
cause its too many gone, but I'm still livin on,
stay strong for my farewells in this song.
[Chorus]
Write your name across the sky (With talking prelude)
[Verse 2]
I'll give the money, f** the fame, all the j**els,
all the hoes, all the clothes and then all the shoes,
just for my n***as back,
but I know I'll never get em back,
so if a p**y disrespect then he gettin wacked.
And I heard n***as at my neck,
Im like where they at,
cause I be right there on the set with the biggest gatt.
And so many n***as thats hatin, I don't even know em
And so many fellas, the hatred I don't even show em.
Can I just get some money,
cause I know n***as broke and bummy, that ain't even funny.
I know they prolly wanna rob me, they hatin prolly,
but they gon only make Marley come catch a body,
they wont get nothing from me.
From the hell hole, where its full of zombies,
where they k** the most bodies across the country,
where they took all of my homies from me,
man R.I.P. my homies, gotta get this money.
Squad.
R.I.P. the L's, free the L's, all you n***as wanna be the L's,
No Limit MB b**h we the L's,
R.I.P. white folks, I cant see a L.
Squad.
And we gotta stay winning, rolling on fours with them semis and they tinted,
pull up on the oppers, buss a beater and they hittin,
cause we scored when we ain't have them heaters and they didn't, ah.