What You Rappin’ For

[Verse 1: 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

[Verse 2; DC Young Fly]
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

[Verse 3: Quincy]
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

[Verse 4; DC Young Fly]
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?)