The Roc (Just Fire)
Lyrics
I wanna welcome you to Extravaganza
Something incredible that's about to take place
World renowned, Roc-A-Fella, holla
Yeah, yeah, niggas
Just Blaze in this shit, ya heard? (It's your main man)
I'm back niggas, holla (yo, yo)
My break I'm fresh off it
I never change, I'm stuck in these ways
Nike Airs, sweats and Taurus (uh)
But I'm-a do it for my enemies
They wanna end my chill, wanna see what that villa be
Now what that sound like?
Plus they know what a clip get down like
Turn bags from bladders, legs to wheels, pain and pills
'Cause you fuckin' wit' a nigga that'll jump out, wave the steel
I live this way, it's real dawg, no joke
Blow smoke in your bitch face, piss on your wheels
Slap your custies, clap your worker, dead the strip
Stick your connect, yap your bitch
So let it be known, I'm back for my grizzly
The Sergeant, the Cap, the MAC holds sixty
For rookies and vets, I'll bang 'til it click (click)
So run and tell your duela the Ruger come wit' two clips, dawg
M-easy, won't leave, my hood need me
Pop fa' sheezy, who don't believe me?
We all criminals but live like a Diplomat
We get low, when the dough low, get it back
Here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man for Killa Cam
Me and my Roc killa fam, top billers man (man)
We run the spot, drop ceilings, fam (fam)
Hit the wall, drop ceiling fans (uh)
Listen boy, man I show you how to fill a van
Up with killers, man, and line the trunk
Keep a stash box for the nine and the pump
The coach walk you through and he grind you up
What you want the dope or the weed?
How you want it packaged? In the cap or the bag?
How you want me packin'? Wit' the MAC or the Mag?
Yeah, that Bent get back, but listen scrap, act real fast
And keep a wack that'll gag your back
Block style from your swagger, your swacks
It's the Broad Street Bully bitch
Bully niggas on the broadest streets
I house niggas on the narrowest block
Know my rules when the barrel get hot
When the gun blows and the shots fall and the smoke clear
Man, I be hearin' you were murdered (you ain't here)
Nobody hit up in the cross 'cause I'm observin' (you ain't here)
Nobody be missin' your loss 'cause you deserved it
South Philly niggas kill at will
I keep my MAC-milli chilly chill (uh), on the really-real
'Fore I make you niggas feel this steel (Killa, Killa)
Go 'head stupid niggas go fuck wit' them chicks (go 'head)
I'm the third little piggy, I'ma fuck wit' them bricks (bricks)
Better yet the bakery, I got pies and cakes (cakes)
Nigga think doublin' is turnin' five to eight
I turn eight to twenty, twenty to a hunnid, hunnid to a thousand
That to a hunnid thousand (thousand), in front of housin' (housin')
Closed 'em all down, dawg, no one's allowed in (allowed in)
I'm coppin' everything I'm done wit' browsin' (gimme that)
It's the top don, Glock palm, dot com
Get your shit rocked mon like Haseem Rahman (Rahman)
And I'm extra scary CEOs all the frontin' ain't necessary (why?)
I fuck your secretaries
All for information it ain't necessary
They in love like the 14th of February
Play 'em like April 1st, right before I slide off (off)
It could be March 2nd, sound like July 4th (bah)
Halloween or Memorial Day
At your memorial, be one year from today (today)
All y'all think it's peace and peachy
I leave you Reesy Piecy, all my bitches rock
Christian Dior, BCBG (uh)
'Round phony niggas get the heeby jeebies
Hungry hoes say, "Killa, feed me, feed me"
Calm down ma, easy, easy (easy)
Talk greasy, please me, get my man Weezy
Still rock Ellesses, to squeeze appease me
He ain't no tease but measly
Not Doggy's Angels, Killa, please believe me, uh
You now rollin' with them thugs from the R-O-C
Niggas wanna despise the team, Roc-A-Fella
When the shit gets down you know who's doin' the poppin'
Killa, Sigel
M Bleek
Fuck those who disagree, my bullets you get 'em free
Roc in this muh, muh-muhfucka
Writer(s): Cameron Giles, Dwight Grant, Justin Smith, Malik Cox
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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