Respect Lyrics by Notorious B.I.G.

Respect Lyrics

    Verse 1

    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"

    Verse 2

    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 wanna 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 wanna 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

    Verse 3

    Ninety-four, now I explore new horizons
    Mama smile when she see me, that's surprisin'
    Honeys 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

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