Respect my Gangsta Lyrics by Drag-on

Respect my Gangsta Lyrics

    Yeah, what up?
    New York City, what up?
    This your boy, to the Dash
    S.P., Double R
    Hell and Back
    Styles straight out the penn

    [Styles P]
    You don't like my shit you could bite my dick
    I got a case, I'ma fight my shit
    I got a blunt, I'ma light my shit
    I'ma chain smoke with cocaine sellers
    Stick up kid took the game over
    Niggaz hate death, still gotta break necks
    I'm at the dealer coppin shit they ain't make yet
    You think you're nigga happy, I'm just trigger happy
    Phone ring a lot, niggaz throwin figgas at me
    I got major plans, you get in the way
    And your throat is the place where my banger lands
    You don't wanna anger me, upset me or startle me
    You don't want a part of me, I'm goin for the arteries
    And I'm a colt-45 user, G-Host to the game of death
    You about to die loser
    This is Holiday and Dash-On
    We burn a whole fuckin house down so I don't need a mask on

    [Chorus: Drag-On & Styles x2]
    You don't respect my flow you gon respect my gangsta
    Or get stabbed with this motherfuckin banger
    Tell 'em P
    You don't like my shit you could bite my dick
    I got a case I'ma fight my shit
    This for the streets

    [Drag-On]
    Nigga don't think cause you hot today you can't be in the fridge tomorrow
    If you a family man I'll send you back your kids in a jar
    You bought your soldiers, nigga I was raised with mine
    I got three kids, four, five, but I raise my nine
    I'll have yall niggaz missin your moms
    Then let you find her wearin long sleeves but missin her arms
    And ain't nothin for me to twist ya wig
    All I gotta do is puff some weed then listen to B.I.G
    Then come back and level the city
    I got my money up, my band is thirty, my bezzle is fifty
    My vest weigh fifteen, bannana hold sixty
    So I can run slow and hit you up swiftly
    Extort rappers, they break me down half of their check
    I keep a banger that'll break down half of your neck
    I done been through hell and back, jail and bail me back
    Drag and S.P.'ll blow off half of your chest

    [Chorus]

    [Styles P]
    It's like a kodak moment come capture this
    How I motherfuckin fracture shit, yall niggaz talkin blaphemis
    Motherfuckers we make classic shit, matter fact I'll mash ya shit
    Yall niggaz like potatoes to me
    And I might be high but you look good with a halo to me
    And I ain't got a problem wit a problem
    Fuck 'em cause I know he gon die with a nine in his noggin

    [Drag-On]
    Yeah, Drag back with the Ghost
    You know what that means, more vests and a lot more toast
    I'm a lot older plus a lot more violent
    Tip of my guns covered, it's a lot more silent
    My niggaz pop off off imposts
    Murder ya kinfolks and we ain't even fuckin start wildin
    So be cautious nigga or be in the coffin nigga
    Cause we'll bring it to the hardest or the softest nigga

    [Chorus)

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