"Respect" as written by Bryan Michael Cox, Jermaine Dupri, Brandon Casey and Brian Casey....
Nineteen seventy somethin' nigga I don't sweat the date
My moms is late so I had to plan my escape
Out the skins in this world of fly girls
Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut what the fuck
I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
wild juvenile rippin' mics and shit
New York New York ready for the likes of this uh
Then came the worst date May 21st
2:19, that's when my momma water burst
No spouse in the house so she rode for self
to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
Umbilical cord's wrapped around my neck
I'm seein' my death and I ain't even took my first step
I made it out, I'm bringin' mad joy
The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a Bad Boy"

Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream
On the drug scene, fuck a football team
Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen
Hearin' the coach scream at my lifetime dream, I mean
I want to blow up, stack my dough up
So school I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up
Mom said that I should grow up and check myself
before I wreck myself, disrespect myself
Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it
Scarface, King of New York, I want to be it
Rap was secondary, money was necessary
Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary
C74-Mark 8 set me straight
Not able to move behind the great steel gate
Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?
All the money I stacked was all the money for bail

Ninety-four, now I explore new horizons
Mama smile when she see me, that's surprisin'
Honey's is tantalizin', they freak all night
Peep duckin' cops on the creep all night
As I open my eyes and realizin' I changed
Not the same deranged child stuck up in the game
And to my niggas livin' street life
Learn to treat life to the best, put stress to rest
Still tote your vest man, niggas be trippin'
In the streets without a gat? Nah, nigga you're slippin'
If I'm pimpin on The F with weed on my breath
Original hustler with the muffler on the Tec
Respect to the Mac's and the Ac's
To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps

Lyrics submitted by spliphstar, edited by Ulmanor

"Respect" as written by Harry Wayne Casey Harry Casey

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Respect song meanings
Add your thoughts


sort form View by:
  • +1
    Lyric CorrectionRefrain:
    Me holla respect, to all the con mon dem
    con men alone, keep con mine friend
    fire one, feel all the beef on a them
    in fam alone keep in fam my friend

    Now, this is Diana King/
    Doin' a Yankee ting/
    In a Biggie Smalls swing/
    Do it Jah.../
    Have Mercy/
    The gun man in a da party/
    And everybody feel irie!/
    And everybody just follow me, follow me, follow me!
    Oh yes, we are the best, no other guy can…[test…*laugh*]
    Ulmanoron December 06, 2010   Link
  • 0
    General CommentGreat song i like the chorus (not shown on these lyrics) although i don't really understand wat they r saying in chorus
    SDRAWKCAB-FOWARDSon December 09, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentYeah i like the chorus too, That's Diana King, but i cant find the lyrics to that chorus...
    slighteron December 19, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentLine 4 should be "Tanqueray and Hennessy until I call Earl", where "calling Earl" is like "calling Ralph" - onomatopoeia for vomiting.
    oballon April 08, 2011   Link

Add your thoughts

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!

Back to top