Quality Control
Gimmie My Respect
[Intro]
Rollin' in my pimpin’, ain't no tellin' what I’m finna do
Had to muhfuckin'…
My beeper just a-beepin' so I'm takin' a risk to drop off two
Turn the muhfuckin' light off, that's what I had to do
Keys in my lap (Uh-huh), just in case these n***as stangin'
I’m scrapped, bitch don’t trip (30, you a fool for this one)
You can turn the headphones up
'Cause I’m equipped with that pistol grip
[Verse 1]
Slime (Slime)
The whole gang slime (Slime)
Pull up a sauna, I'm fine (Fine)
Reach in the bag, grab the iron (Bop, bop, bop, bop)
Still rock the ice when I'm flyin', uh (Ice)
If she ain’t fuckin', she spyin' (Fuckin')
N***as be hatin' on gang (Gang)
Really just sound like they cryin' (Bitch)
These n***as bit on the cap (Bitch)
Carl Ripley's, I think they lyin' (Cap)
These old n***as gettin' washed (Huh)
They can buy every new watch (Mhm)
It still wouldn't buy 'em more time (Gang)
I pick the drip, you get slimed, huh (Drip)
Don't make the gang do a crime, huh (Drip)
Get em' on cam like a Vine, huh (Drip)
Yeah
[Interlude]
Rollin' in my pimpin', ain't no tellin' what I'm finna do
Yeah n***a, you know what the fuck goin' on n***a
My beeper just a-beepin' so I'm takin' a risk to drop off two
N***as gon' keep forgetting about who-
Keys in my lap, just in case these n***as stangin'
N***as gon' keep forgetting about who goddamn-
Started this muhfuckin' new wave shit, bruh
I'm scrapped, bitch don't trip
'Cause I'm equipped with that pistol grip
Come on, man, give my respect, bitch
[Verse 2]
Yeah, smokin' like hickory (Hick)
Stay with the stick for the trickery (Stick)
Pay my respect to keep taking the victories
Freddy went missin', that shit was a mystery
Caught me a vibe, yeah a negative energy
Don't be upset that I called you a mini-me
Keep me a Uzi, that shit be the minigun
Hunnid round clips, pop it right in the Tommy gun
My n***as shoot, they don't do the octagon, yup
Spider drop out like Decepticon (Bitch)
Right at your crib while you're eatin' dinner (Bah)
Dressed in a mask like it's Comic-Con (Ho)
Twelve came in the hotel room (Hoo)
I like to sleep at the Palms (Shit)
Nut fill up to her gums (Shit)
All in her stomach like TUMS (Shit)
[Outro]
Rollin' in my pimpin', ain't no tellin' what I'm finna do
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said what I said n***a
My beeper just a-beepin' so I'm takin' a risk to drop off two
And I'm a eight-figure, muhfuckin' twenty-one year old millionaire
Ain't got no kids either
Keys in my lap, just in case these n***as stangin'
Ain't no bitch gon' trick me out my dollar
I'm scrapped, bitch don't trip
'Cause I'm equipped with that pistol grip
Ain't takin' care of none of these dry-hair bitches with kids, n***a