Respected

[Intro: Sample & Roc Marciano]

"I want to be highly respected, amongst everyone. Dudes from New York, dudes outside of New York—highly Respected. "

Check the motherfuckin' record, nigga, I invented swag, nigg-a

Uh, uh-huh

They back (Uh), yeah, I promise you (Uh)

(Wooooooooh!) Yeah, uh

We ain't playin' with you (Marc', baby)

Lemme lock shit, boy

Fuck you mean, boy? (Yeah)

(We back)

Uh (Come on)

[Verse: Rock Marciano]

Uh—fox-fur on my evening coat

I gave these heathens hope (Gave em' hope)

Uh, peep my garage, three sixes, yeah, that's the demon code

Be it so, I'm not evil though (Haha) (Wooooh!), uh

Nigga's emo, (Ah!) this the cheat code, don't get your

Cheek blown—your body don't possess not one street bone (Not one!)

Bone to pick with who? You meat (Meat), T-bone

My dingoes eat you whole, you should find work at Home Depot (Mmmm! Get a job)

We own the streets don't mean to hurt your ego, shit is big

My nig', these cigs get lit with burned C-notes (Wow)

Peep the steelo (Peep)

Peep the scene mo'; moskinos, limosines, and speedboats (*Revs*)

Get your meatloaf smoked, your paper low

My section look like Kinkos, Pringles, keep the thing close

Like a Speedo, I'm not playing with these negros (Negros)

Keep it P, though—word to my heated comb, a gift from Ceelo (Pimpin')

Ya'll grew up in houses—we grew up in housin'

Now my outfit's worth a couple thousand bucks, so fuck the browsin'

Money-counters on the counters, Thom Browne trousers to tuck

The Brownin' with diamonds, bust your Rollie down, it's crowded (Wooh!) (Wow)

Uh, do the math, duke; ain't nothing free (Nothin' free)

You can't fuck with me, the Lamborghini truck got bucket seats (Uh!)

What's beef? When they up defeat and touch ya muscle-tee (Wooh!)

Uh, your cuddy just wasn't my cup of tea—Marc'

[Outro]

Uh (We ain't playin' with 'em)

We ain't playin' with 'em

(We ain't playin' with 'em) Definitely not

(Uh) Yeah, boy, straight like that—nigga

(You cannot fuck with me) Pimp stand in the motherfuckin' buildin', boy, Long Island, stand the fuck up

(On no fuckin' level) You already know, nigga, don't get your motherfuckin' shit smoked

Don't get too close, or you might get shot, shit

Bum-ass niggas

You already know, nigga

Numero uno, boy—jefe

Marcielago

Huh? Es cargo