(My guy, Mars)

Hmm, hey they say ignorance is bliss, huh?
I guess niggas is so blissful
Do anything for dollars, the thought of havin' a fistful
Make 'em switch sides when it lookin' grim and dismal
A coward dies a thousand deaths, no pistol
See fuck nigga do fuck shit 'cause they got fucked up intentions to
Nigga got no principle, better watch who you listen to
I see it in your eyes, you weak, the lies you speak
And shit you do right now, where I'm from, you die in the streets
'Cause, boy, that hoe shit
I'm in the game, I ain't worried what the coach said
Ay boy you lame, better watch how you approach that
All in your feelings, showin' all of your emotions
I'ma be at yo' neck about that ho shit

All the drama, I love it, get an erection for it
Like go to Vegas, fight police, not get arrested for it
The smoke, I'm runnin' to it, trouble with and devoid
And, hell, they blow it in your direction, you best be ready for it
Right, you're humble, arrogant, oxymoron, anomaly
Egotistical activist, master solution strategist
Full-time family man, part-time politics
Trap nigga, fashion icon, I'm all of it
Don't crucifyin' the messenger
'Cause the message real you need to hear it
Absorb and let it sizzle in your spirit
To all these niggas goin' out, sad, actin' all weird
You embarrassin' yourself, looky here, nigga

Oh, no, niggas don't respect the code (respect the code)
Oh, no, act like bitches, niggas act like hoes (they disrespect the code)
Catch insomnia, oh don't you sleep (keep your eyes open)
Keep your open (your eyes), your eyes open (yeah, yeah)

I wish I really knew how to sing for you, baby (they disrespect the code)
But since I can't, I'ma count this paper in front of you and
Shower you with these gifts and (mmh, they don't respect the code)
I'ma tell you the best shit that come to my mind and (Maybach Music)
I want you to feel like I love you, baby

Abu Dhabi, the penthouse floors not for the amateurs
Calamari from California, came with cannabis (came with cannabis)
Fill arenas that put the team up on the banisters
Pinkie rings and the other things that's seen to gamblers
Count your acres, build your estates, we call it farm life (call it farm life)
Talkin' heavy, your chain's so hallow in your charm like
Pistol poppin', you whip look polished and broad's nice
Ke-mo sah-bee, hundred kilos just on a calm night (just on a calm night)
Glad to see me, bowl of zucchini, call it mob life
Drop the top then call the models, yes all the tall type
Bel-air bottles back in Beverly Hills, we balled out
Biggest boss, I'm poppin' dollars, fuck what you talkin' 'bout?
Hundred racks in no Cadillacs, now pull your cards out (pull your cards out)
See a felon, then feed the felons, so they think you jealous
Say you love him and write him letters, but you never mail 'em
Facts, I'm at the top because I'm chargin' tax, acts

Oh, no, niggas don't respect the code (respect the code)
(Renzel, a.k.a William)
Oh, no (the big fish, Tilikum)
Act like bitches, niggas act like hoes (uh, they disrespect the code)
Catch insomnia, oh don't you sleep (keep your eyes open)
Keep your open (your eyes), your eyes open (yeah, yeah)

You just inspect the code
You don't respect the code

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Clifford Joseph Harris, William Leonard Roberts