What You Rappin For? - Quincy

My life is changing so fast, ain’t tryna slow it down

«I like it fast,» that’s what she said, so another round

Of shots for the ladies

Who drive truck, Mercedes

I’m talking paparazzi flashes like that girl with Jay-Z

I know you heard of her, queen shit

I don’t think she a blood but she always quick to rep that «B» shit

By the way, I love free shit

But nothing in life is free, not even free shit

Anyway

I’m in Miami, man, I’m prolly in the shade

Since my hair is long as shit I’m prolly gettin' braids

And since I’m in Miami, man, you know I’m gettin' paid

And since I’m in Miami, might as well go and get laid

Hah, that’s confidential

And if you lackin' confidence in life, boy, that’s a issue

It’s not that I shit on you on purpose like some tissue

But I just got the train tunnel vision, where’s my whistle

Anyway

All you know is what you see up on the 'gram, uh

And all I want for you to do is see me who I am, uh

And all you ever do is complain 'bout your man, but

One thing that I know is that you know that I’m the man, ma

Yeah, and since you understand that

I’ma send an innuendo over so tell your man he could stand back, yeah

You welcome for the handback

You never met a poppin ass nigga who stay grinding like sandbags

God damn, Quincy!

Shit

I ain’t know you were a rapper like that, ugly ass

But, God, that was fire

First of all, you too lightskin to be rappin' like that

And-and I heard you was talkin' 'bout you was about to braid your hair

Why?

You got good hair, nigga

I hate when mothafuckas got good hair, and then they wanna dread they shit

That shit won’t stay, 'cause your hair is perfect boo

Like, why cop a Bugatti when I can drive one of the homies?

Then I can speed right by the haters, fronters, and the phonies

And if I only met you that does not mean that you know me

And just 'cause you took a picture with me, doesn’t mean we homies

But that ain’t shade to nobody specific

In LA with the Jag, back home you got a Civic

Come on, what you lyin' for?

Those people that’s with me, people I’d die for

Don’t turn the volume down yet, 'cause I ain’t finished

Actually, I’m done

No wait, I’m kidding

I’m winning and I got the ring, I won that

Mr. Magic in the bed, she asking where my wand at

Hmm, should I show her where my wand at?

Nah, I’ma keep her wondering, all the girls want that

Yeah, they only want that

Feinding for my love more than crap

God dammit, Quincy

Didn’t I tell your ass to shut the fuck up?

Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?

Shit

Your ass already rich

Fuck you rappin' for?

You rich

Nigga your-your

I thought Quincy Jones was your daddy, but he’s your god daddy

And I found out Al B Sure!'s your real damn daddy

And your stepdaddy’s P Diddy

Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, P Diddy

The nigga got nine names

The nigga got Sean, Sean John, P Diddy, Puff Daddy, Daddy Diddy, Combs

I-I-I overhead the nigga tell a nigga his name was Deandre the other day

I said, «God dammit, even niggas with money be lyin'»

Shit

You know what?

I need to be a part of your family nigga

Please, adopt me

(Fuck you mean?)