Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Men of Respect, artist - Kasino
Date of issue: 30.08.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Men of Respect |
Yeah, what the deal. |
This is what y’all niggas been waiting for? |
This is what been waiting for huh? |
That Kasino shit. |
L.O.X. |
shit |
Oh my God. |
Flex gonna pump this. |
Clue gonna pump this |
Angie Martinez gonna pump this. |
Ahhh, oh |
Verse One: Sheek Luchion |
Yo I don’t toss it when I pop, I just run up in the spot |
Pour acid on my Glock and start burying the pot |
In the back yard, used to have the dead dog I stuffed with G’s |
Tell the cops that he died from fleas |
That shit was well planned, but I know when it happens |
When the shit hits the fan, and that nigga be your man |
And get caught red hand with a half a pelican |
What do you do? |
Don’t stall |
Spring him and buy more |
It’s the code of the streets |
If your belly ain’t the beast |
And you ain’t hungry for this cake |
How much you expect to make? |
When I was young I threw parties and had food fights at school |
Whoever came and made it there fresh was cool |
So that taught me |
I started stealing dean’s walkie-talkies |
Five cent a chip |
The next month, bought a whip |
Something like, Lucy or Rex, next thing you know |
I’m getting sex from 9th and up, that’s living it up |
Not Donald Trump but what, buying pies for the class |
Fifteen buying Hydro in glass |
Way back when |
Only drinking Gin |
Now I’m a Hennessey man, I dealt with many hoes |
Used to pump my fist with Arsenio |
Player hating niggas that used to rap in all the videos |
That needed to be me |
My click needed to be G |
All up in the game, with bitches riding our train |
And I’m pretty sure my nigga Kasino feeling the same |
Verse Two: Kasino |
Ayo you can’t tell me nothing about doing dirt |
Sitting up, six months in the spot, on the block, losing work |
I been there, any part of the game you name |
I done did it, even after Sledge runs in it |
I done copped out, blew trial, done my whole sentence |
Went from no dough, 'til the point when the dough don’t grow |
Got too big for them little whips, the door won’t close |
Got the big truck, bent up, all over the road |
Remember little Keith, from P. S. 93 with his brothers clothes |
Went from hand me downs, but y’all hear me now |
Don’t forget that I’m sober when y’all staring me down |
Got a team of hungry niggas, that’s my family now |
And they get down, there’s no lace wearing their browns |
Went from spitting bangers in the yard, to spitting a round |
And yo I promise not to act funny |
Loyalty to all them niggas who react for me |
Handle my gats for me, but for this rap money |
I was three cars deep, and this my pack money |
Eating and learning to act hungry |
]From South Cat country, hustling cane |
I’m like Denzel with a pencil, he got game |
Verse Three: Styles Paniro |
If I die, don’t you dare send me flowers |
If you ain’t a friend of ours |
Cock Sucker, they call me S. P. I don’t blend with cowards |
I spit Heroin, make y’all niggas pure dope heads |
Like Tony when he went to kill Frank Lopez |
Top of the world |
Gun cocked, cock in your girl |
Blowing the steam |
Feels good fulfilling your dream |
Using your head, while y’all niggas losing your bread |
Watch for snakes in the garden when there’s spiders in the bed |
Whether I’m living or dying, nigga I’m Ruff Riding |
Leave with two bitches 100 G’s plus iron |
Styles spits the shit that’ll have niggas crying |
Telling your man what I said, fucking with Dreads |
In the 500 I’m blunted, most wanted by Feds |
Lock me up, your little ass copied up |
Had the whole East Side looking poppied up |
Hop in the Porsche |
Cranberry frost exhaust |
Deep dish 18's |
Out of state play things |
Ten niggas behind me, we all racing |
Eleven left hands with them platinum face things |
Busting a left, about the get the truck with the checks |
Sending you death for fucking with the Men of Respect |
Verse Four: Jadakiss |
Y’all think y’all getting a dime of this rap money, you crazy |
I’m hungry and I can’t pump no more, I’m lazy |
I never did like you, I really don’t know you |
And just because I give you a dap, I’ll still blow you |
Listen here, we just gonna make one thing clear |
You gonna lose two of your mans a month, for a year |
Yeah I seen ill niggas slide off broke |
That’s why I got incorporated, now I write off coke |
Burning the hash, keep money, learning the stash |
My credit is great, but I buy burners with cash |
I’m the nigga that’ll come through and light up an ounce |
Y’all the faggots that’ll talk about me as soon as I bounce |
All your men are hating me, four door Inf. |
off white |
With the nickels, the chip, and the clear lights |
I bear right, bust a U, then hop out with the pump |
And make all them niggas empty all their shit in the trunk |
Jadakiss in the top 5, dead or alive |
Spit bees at a nigga, that’ll give him the hives |
Whenever you hear me, it’ll be the flow of the night |
Just gimme a light, and lower the Mic |
I swear to God, have everybody saying I’m the MC of their choice |
Then they’ll remember it was me, raspy voice |
Got Clive D, Lyor and Tommy |
Trying to buy me |
I don’t wanna talk, all y’all do is send me a check |
L.O.X. |
and Kasino be the Men of Respect |
Chorus: all |
Men of Respect, steal the work, kill the connect |
You look dry so we leaving you wet |
I don’t care if I’m sentenced to death |
I’mma still get dough 'til my very last breath |