Artist: Shawn Wigs Album: The 45 King Song: R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Typed by: Cno Evil [Shawn Wigs] Aiyo, these rock heads is understood You want be talking these blocks in your rhymes, never been in the hood The only grams you coppin' is out of Nabisco box Forget a day in my shoes, can't stand the stink of my socks This O.T.F., but terror slang, Skywalker Du-Lu Hell and Kella Krew, S-Styles and no talker It's Deebo, twenty in the hole, four plates on the bench I want stub with a nut, you couldn't loosen with a wrench You in the trench, I'm frontline with the ratchet And got more artillery than Inspector Gadget More punchlines, I got 'em like, Bernie and Cedric That's unimpressive, I see the world through geometrics I'm the Oracle, Neo, Morpheus and the Agent Combined to see your whole fucking style is flagrant You'se a kid, I'm a twenty something year old man, muthafucka I can jelly, but don't shit to with slumbers You'se a Welcher, upset with the cards that God dealt ya So go against the grain, and get crashed like Delta That's my word, muthafucka, better show me some respect, pussy...