Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What You Rappin For?, artist - Quincy. Date of issue: 16.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
What You Rappin For? |
| My life is changing so fast, ain’t tryna slow it down |
| «I like it fast,» that’s what she said, so another round |
| Of shots for the ladies |
| Who drive truck, Mercedes |
| I’m talking paparazzi flashes like that girl with Jay-Z |
| I know you heard of her, queen shit |
| I don’t think she a blood but she always quick to rep that «B» shit |
| By the way, I love free shit |
| But nothing in life is free, not even free shit |
| Anyway |
| I’m in Miami, man, I’m prolly in the shade |
| Since my hair is long as shit I’m prolly gettin' braids |
| And since I’m in Miami, man, you know I’m gettin' paid |
| And since I’m in Miami, might as well go and get laid |
| Hah, that’s confidential |
| And if you lackin' confidence in life, boy, that’s a issue |
| It’s not that I shit on you on purpose like some tissue |
| But I just got the train tunnel vision, where’s my whistle |
| Anyway |
| All you know is what you see up on the 'gram, uh |
| And all I want for you to do is see me who I am, uh |
| And all you ever do is complain 'bout your man, but |
| One thing that I know is that you know that I’m the man, ma |
| Yeah, and since you understand that |
| I’ma send an innuendo over so tell your man he could stand back, yeah |
| You welcome for the handback |
| You never met a poppin ass nigga who stay grinding like sandbags |
| God damn, Quincy! |
| Shit |
| I ain’t know you were a rapper like that, ugly ass |
| But, God, that was fire |
| First of all, you too lightskin to be rappin' like that |
| And-and I heard you was talkin' 'bout you was about to braid your hair |
| Why? |
| You got good hair, nigga |
| I hate when mothafuckas got good hair, and then they wanna dread they shit |
| That shit won’t stay, 'cause your hair is perfect boo |
| Like, why cop a Bugatti when I can drive one of the homies? |
| Then I can speed right by the haters, fronters, and the phonies |
| And if I only met you that does not mean that you know me |
| And just 'cause you took a picture with me, doesn’t mean we homies |
| But that ain’t shade to nobody specific |
| In LA with the Jag, back home you got a Civic |
| Come on, what you lyin' for? |
| Those people that’s with me, people I’d die for |
| Don’t turn the volume down yet, 'cause I ain’t finished |
| Actually, I’m done |
| No wait, I’m kidding |
| I’m winning and I got the ring, I won that |
| Mr. Magic in the bed, she asking where my wand at |
| Hmm, should I show her where my wand at? |
| Nah, I’ma keep her wondering, all the girls want that |
| Yeah, they only want that |
| Feinding for my love more than crap |
| God dammit, Quincy |
| Didn’t I tell your ass to shut the fuck up? |
| Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up? |
| Shit |
| Your ass already rich |
| Fuck you rappin' for? |
| You rich |
| Nigga your-your |
| I thought Quincy Jones was your daddy, but he’s your god daddy |
| And I found out Al B Sure!'s your real damn daddy |
| And your stepdaddy’s P Diddy |
| Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, P Diddy |
| The nigga got nine names |
| The nigga got Sean, Sean John, P Diddy, Puff Daddy, Daddy Diddy, Combs |
| I-I-I overhead the nigga tell a nigga his name was Deandre the other day |
| I said, «God dammit, even niggas with money be lyin'» |
| Shit |
| You know what? |
| I need to be a part of your family nigga |
| Please, adopt me |
| (Fuck you mean?) |