Respect the Code (feat. Kes Kross)

(My Guy Mars)

Hey, they say ignorance is bliss, huh? I guess niggas is so blissful
Do anything for dollars, the thought of havin' a fistful
Make 'em switch sides when it lookin' grim and dismal
A coward dies a thousand deaths, no pistol

See fuck niggas do fuck shit 'cause they got fucked up intentions to
Nigga got no principles, better watch who you listen to
I see it in your eyes, you weak, the lies you speak
And shit you do right now, where I'm from, you die in the streets

'Cause, boy, that ho shit
I'm in the game, I ain't worried what the coach said
And, boy, you lame, better watch how you approach that
All in your feelings, showin' all of your emotions
I'ma be at your neck, about that ho shit

All the drama, I love it, gеt an erection for it
Like go to Vеgas, fight police, not get arrested for it
The smoke, I'm runnin' to it, trouble wouldn't dare avoid
And, hell, they blow it in your direction, you better be ready for it

Righteous, humble, arrogant, oxymoron, anomaly
Egotistical activist, master solution strategist
Full-time family man, part-time politic
Trap nigga, fashion icon, I'm all of it

Don't crucify the messenger
'Cause the message real, you need to hear it
Absorb it, let it sizzle in your spirit
To all these niggas goin' out sad, actin' all weird
You embarrassin' yourself, lookie here, nigga

Oh no, niggas don't respect the code (respect the code)
Oh no, act like bitches, niggas act like hoes (they disrespect the code)
Catch insomnia, boy, don't you sleep (keep your eyes open)
Keep your eyes open (your eyes) your eyes open

I wish I really knew how to sing for you, baby (you're just a spectacle)
But since I can't, I'ma count this paper in front of you, and
Shower you with these gifts and (M-M-M-M, they don't respect the code)
I'ma tell you the best shit that come to my mind, and (Maybach Music)
I want you to feel like I love you, baby

Abu Dhabi, the penthouse slugs not for the amateurs
Calamari from California came with cannabis
Fill arenas that put the team up on the banisters
Pinkie rings and the other things that seen the gamblers

Count your acres, build your estates, we call it farm life
Talkin' heavy, your chains sound hollow when your charm light
Pistol poppin', you whip look polished and your broad's nice
Kemosabe, hundred kilos just on a calm night

Glad to see me, bowl of zucchini, call it mob life
Drop the top and call the models, yes, all the tall type
Belaire bottles back in Beverly Hills, we balled out
Biggest boss, I'm poppin' dollars, fuck what you talkin' 'bout

Hundred racks and no Cadillacs, now pull your cars out
See you fell in and feed the felons, so they think you jealous
Say you love him and write him letters, but you never mail him
Fax, I'm at the top because I'm chargin' tax, ask

Oh no, niggas don't respect the code (respect the code)
Renzel, A.K.A Willy
Oh no, act like bitches, niggas act like hoes (they disrespect the code)
The big fish, tell 'em, uh
Catch insomnia, boy, don't you sleep (keep your eyes open)
Keep your open (your eyes) your eyes open

You're just a spectacle, you don't respect the code



Credits
Writer(s): Clifford J. Harris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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