Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Respect My Gun, artist - PRhyme.
Date of issue: 15.03.2018
Song language: English
Respect My Gun |
Competition fell hard 'cause I got real bars like barbarians |
Y’all looking like Mel Farr, ball-carrying |
While I’m chilling abroad with a broad that’s Bulgarian |
With my dick in her jaws, giving her heart failure |
Licking it down under like living in Australia |
With no feelings involved, like Lauryn Hill, killing her soft |
I score at will, but when you this fly |
It’s either limit the sky or the unlimited fall |
Feel like I’m living the life of the infamous, raw criminal |
Who’s been spinning inside the mirror in the sky |
Suspended in time like the General Zod |
Connoisseur of the finest colognes, call me the chemical lord |
Pure artist, and it’s for sure, dawg, and- |
You ain’t gotta respect me |
But you better not disrespect my motherfucking gun |
God of the semi-automatic |
But your ass bet' not call me no semi-god |
I’m sipping on Guinness while sitting in the synagogue |
Tall-spending, living large |
And this to y’all niggas long-winded |
I’m getting in my car and I’m skidding off |
Convict of brown bricks and raw |
I keep the same down chick around different tours |
I tore down shit before and now the shit be more |
'Cause now your boy’s sound’s just matured |
And your shit for clowns, CB4 |
I don’t know, Rihanna, Rita Ora, either/or |
It’d be an honor just to be a fly on either wall of these giant divas |
Any time you see the dogs, call the hyenas, we at war |
You ain’t gotta respect me |
But you better not disrespect my motherfucking gun |
Facts, I might air you with gats, dump your body out on Fairfax |
Played the trap, laid on the air mat before rap |
I had the .44 Mag in the velour bag |
Bagging bitches, had a bickering back and forth |
This ain’t badminton |
I had to admit, that shit bad for business |
I like 'em bad, I seen your women friend get apprehended |
It’s clear as wind that I done mastered this pimping |
Hopped out the albino rhino |
I don’t buy no clothes with rhinestones |
I’m too refined, I’m not common folk |
Ferragamo robe, my skin rose gold |
I was rocking Moto seven years ago, you niggas slow |
Just dig the hole and don’t be difficult |
I keep the .40 Colt for hopes to get me smoked |
You ain’t gotta respect me |
But you better not disrespect my motherfucking gun |
PRhyme, ride out |
You ain’t gotta respect me |
But you better not disrespect my motherfucking gun |