| Song | Respect Tha Drop |
| Artist | O.C. |
| Album | Bon Appetit |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Best, Credle | |
| Blood pulsatin, adrenaline flowin | |
| Full moon at night, on the stoop gettin right | |
| I'll never forget the day before | |
| Son told me to tuck my ice in cause niggaz was triflin | |
| We did what he said but the habit in me | |
| Was to show it off, I still let my chain swang free | |
| Not really thinkin 'bout a set up, or even gettin wet up | |
| That summer night from such advice | |
| So I proceed to parlay, like I do in BK | |
| But this wasn't home, and niggaz shoulda known | |
| To stay on point, niggaz shoulda been on point | |
| And the price paid was lookin down the barrel of a joint | |
| We was dead meat, and them niggaz was wolves | |
| But they didn't want our flesh, dem niggaz wanted the jewels | |
| It happened so quick, no time to get afraid | |
| First instinct was to run like a slave | |
| Me and Schoolly Boy was boxed in | |
| My man Hugh's a few feet away, with a pound at his face | |
| I looked, son in his eyes cause I know how he is | |
| While the other faggot nigga had the gun in my ribs | |
| I thought - fuck, shit 'bout to get buckwild | |
| Popped off my chain, threw it with a Coke and a smile | |
| Thinkin leave already, but them niggaz wasn't done | |
| They went in our pockets for change, numbers and bubblegum | |
| Now - how low can a lowlife get, askin what size are my kicks? | |
| Like I'ma say 8 and shit | |
| To myself I was sayin I'ma MURDER this kid | |
| But thank the Lord they didn't peel back my wig | |
| The jux wasn't longer than a minute to Mush | |
| Then them niggaz tried to tell us, do the Carl Lewis | |
| No backshots buddy, I began to walk backwards | |
| And bust my ass, it all happened so fast | |
| He thought I was shot, starin at me in shock | |
| Turned around, them niggaz was gone, vanished up the block | |
| There was no escapin what not | |
| With toasters in your face, maintain and respect the drop | |
| Word up | |
| You hear that? |
| zuo ci : Best, Credle | |
| Blood pulsatin, adrenaline flowin | |
| Full moon at night, on the stoop gettin right | |
| I' ll never forget the day before | |
| Son told me to tuck my ice in cause niggaz was triflin | |
| We did what he said but the habit in me | |
| Was to show it off, I still let my chain swang free | |
| Not really thinkin ' bout a set up, or even gettin wet up | |
| That summer night from such advice | |
| So I proceed to parlay, like I do in BK | |
| But this wasn' t home, and niggaz shoulda known | |
| To stay on point, niggaz shoulda been on point | |
| And the price paid was lookin down the barrel of a joint | |
| We was dead meat, and them niggaz was wolves | |
| But they didn' t want our flesh, dem niggaz wanted the jewels | |
| It happened so quick, no time to get afraid | |
| First instinct was to run like a slave | |
| Me and Schoolly Boy was boxed in | |
| My man Hugh' s a few feet away, with a pound at his face | |
| I looked, son in his eyes cause I know how he is | |
| While the other faggot nigga had the gun in my ribs | |
| I thought fuck, shit ' bout to get buckwild | |
| Popped off my chain, threw it with a Coke and a smile | |
| Thinkin leave already, but them niggaz wasn' t done | |
| They went in our pockets for change, numbers and bubblegum | |
| Now how low can a lowlife get, askin what size are my kicks? | |
| Like I' ma say 8 and shit | |
| To myself I was sayin I' ma MURDER this kid | |
| But thank the Lord they didn' t peel back my wig | |
| The jux wasn' t longer than a minute to Mush | |
| Then them niggaz tried to tell us, do the Carl Lewis | |
| No backshots buddy, I began to walk backwards | |
| And bust my ass, it all happened so fast | |
| He thought I was shot, starin at me in shock | |
| Turned around, them niggaz was gone, vanished up the block | |
| There was no escapin what not | |
| With toasters in your face, maintain and respect the drop | |
| Word up | |
| You hear that? |
| zuò cí : Best, Credle | |
| Blood pulsatin, adrenaline flowin | |
| Full moon at night, on the stoop gettin right | |
| I' ll never forget the day before | |
| Son told me to tuck my ice in cause niggaz was triflin | |
| We did what he said but the habit in me | |
| Was to show it off, I still let my chain swang free | |
| Not really thinkin ' bout a set up, or even gettin wet up | |
| That summer night from such advice | |
| So I proceed to parlay, like I do in BK | |
| But this wasn' t home, and niggaz shoulda known | |
| To stay on point, niggaz shoulda been on point | |
| And the price paid was lookin down the barrel of a joint | |
| We was dead meat, and them niggaz was wolves | |
| But they didn' t want our flesh, dem niggaz wanted the jewels | |
| It happened so quick, no time to get afraid | |
| First instinct was to run like a slave | |
| Me and Schoolly Boy was boxed in | |
| My man Hugh' s a few feet away, with a pound at his face | |
| I looked, son in his eyes cause I know how he is | |
| While the other faggot nigga had the gun in my ribs | |
| I thought fuck, shit ' bout to get buckwild | |
| Popped off my chain, threw it with a Coke and a smile | |
| Thinkin leave already, but them niggaz wasn' t done | |
| They went in our pockets for change, numbers and bubblegum | |
| Now how low can a lowlife get, askin what size are my kicks? | |
| Like I' ma say 8 and shit | |
| To myself I was sayin I' ma MURDER this kid | |
| But thank the Lord they didn' t peel back my wig | |
| The jux wasn' t longer than a minute to Mush | |
| Then them niggaz tried to tell us, do the Carl Lewis | |
| No backshots buddy, I began to walk backwards | |
| And bust my ass, it all happened so fast | |
| He thought I was shot, starin at me in shock | |
| Turned around, them niggaz was gone, vanished up the block | |
| There was no escapin what not | |
| With toasters in your face, maintain and respect the drop | |
| Word up | |
| You hear that? |