Artist: PRhyme f/ Roc Marciano Album: PRhyme 2 Song: Respect My Gun Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro: DJ Premier scratches] "I am here, to make something perfectly clear" [Royce Da 5'9"] Competition fell hard Cause I got real bars, like barbarians Y'all lookin like Mel Farr, ball-carryin While I'm chillin abroad, with a broad that's Bulgarian With my dick in her jaw is givin her heart failure Lickin her +Down Under+ like livin in Australia With no feelings involved, like Lauryn Hill +Killing Her Soft+, I score at will But when you this fly, it's either limit the sky or the unlimited fall Feel like I'm livin the life of the infamous raw criminal who's been spinnin inside the mirror in the sky Suspended in time like the General Zod Connoisseur of the finest colognes, call me the chemical lord Pure artist, and it's for sure dawg, that [Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"] You ain't gotta respect meeeee But you better, not, disre-spect my, motherfuckin gun [Royce Da 5'9"] God of the semi-au- -tomatic, but yo' ass bet' not call me no semi-god I'm sippin on Guinness while sittin in the synagogue Tall spendin, livin large And this to y'all niggaz long-winded I'm gettin in my car and I'm skiddin off Convict of brown bricks of raw I keep the same down chick around different tours I tore down shit before and now the shit be more Cause now your boy sounds just matured And your shit for clowns, "CB4" I don't know, Rihanna, Rita Ora, either/or It'd be an honor just to be a fly on either wall of these giant divas, any time you see the dogs call the hyenas, we at war [Chorus] [Roc Marciano] Facts, I might air you with gats Dump your body out on Fairfax Played the trap, laid on the air mat before rap I had the .44-mag in the velour bag Baggin bitches, had 'em bickerin back and forth, this ain't badminton I had to admit, that shit bad for bid'ness I like 'em bad, I seen your women friend get apprehended It's clear as wind that I done mastered this pimpin Hopped out the albino rhino, I don't buy no clothes with rhinestones I'm too refined, I'm not common folk Ferragamo robe, my skin rose gold I was rockin Moto seven years ago You niggaz slow, just dig the hole and don't be difficult I keep the .40-Colt for hoes to get me smoked Yeah [Chorus] [Royce] PRhyme~! [Premo] Ride out... [Chorus]