Respect - Kevin Gates

Rastaman them after respect me

You got money?

But you a rent

I’ma respect that

So sick of these, fake niggas

Shaking their ass

Knowing god damn well they don’t spray it then blast

They the type to go to jail, be mistaken for fags

They the type to point at a nigga face in the glass

So look how I felt

We could meet up and leave

Mother fuck who don’t like it

Beat up the streets

Drought came we kick our feet up and eat

Gotta love the way my daddy put a key up for me

Re-up, put about three up a week

My mother keep telling me the game ain’t nothing

Some would never crack a frown or complain when the money come

Never backing down I’m insane I ain’t never run

Do them like tags on shirts and rip them off

I ain’t feeling them

They keep flenching, kill them off what the business is

You niggas ain’t real at all

Grab them by the collar, a few dollars will get them lost

I’m in the roots where the niggas die shots fired

You know this nigga

Kevin Gates, rottweiler

Same shit

Money doing a bad, Reezy doing a bid, Mail doing a bid, B doing a bid,

Seven doing a bid

Last night, bitch ass niggas shooting at wig

That’s the life that we live and it’s all that

They say the game ain’t shit but it’s all fair

Fuck this fucking war, all this beef over a couple of corners.

Don’t matter who

did what to who at this point, the fact is we went to war and now there ain’t

no war in that.

I mean shit, it’s what war is you know and once you in it,

you in it.

If it’s a lie then we fight on that lie, but we got to fight