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Roc Reunion
(专辑: Black Santa - 2012)
[Intro:] Guess who's back, motherfuckers?! Out with the
old, in with the
new So, just when I
thought I
was out... They pull me back in! It's the
Roc, you bastards! Let's take it back to the
street... (Benji style, Benji style, Benji style...) Look at these fucking guys They're not hungry anymore They're sloppy The
way they think, the
way they move Remember me, man? Pain In Da Ass from the
Roc? Okay, we're reloaded! Freeway! [Verse 1: Freeway] Best spitter, rapper I'm a
bitter animal Rock icy charms, bear arms that's mechanical Burnt down booths, burnt beats, they all flammable It's the
return of the
Roc, bitch, The
Loch Ness Monster of rap Still here after a
decade (I'm here) You sick of all this bullshit rap? Here's your antidote Flame things, we the
A-Team, no Hannibal Jay-Z my nigga, kill a
nigga over camel toes Bitch, you say it's a
Ace of Spades, I'll break your legs Hit you with the
sawed-off, getting ate You'll make the
news I'm willing to break out the
Uz to get the
pay And wake up on these niggas to make my day, and make 'em move Right to the
East, and I
represent for the
East Coast If we go to work, I
got.44s in each holster Furthermore, the.44 revolver'll put you under more You dyke bitches one-sided This ain't no tug of war Naw! [Dialog:] (You gotta look at a
guy's eyes next to you) (You're gonna see a
guy who's willing to sacrifice his life for the
good of this squad) (That's what loyalty's about – that's what Roc-A-Fella's about) (That's all it's ever been, gentlemen...) [Verse 2: Neef Buck] Big watch, heavy chain, stones whiter than cocaine Chyeah they all lames, gassed up off propane No indirect, we come straight at your neck Like them GD boys, we demanding the
check I'm a
man of respect Before I
met ya, I
never knew ya It's all up in this, everything goes on a
ruler Whips for my chicks, bag of guns for my shooters And I
be blowing Buddha, sipping slushies in Bermuda I'm a
D-Boy, rap is just my decoy Homie, you ain't sure enough or cut up like Bruce Lee, boy George Jetson, to your lil' youngins you just Elroy Y'all playing with water guns, we playing with real toys Clips that clear the
mall out, make the
love back down Ts with your picture on it, roses in the
background Turn out your lights, no Teddy P. you come through Nicetown Where your fake friends come around when the
price down Alright, clown? (Times have changed – where's all the
gangsters at?) (Now all I
see is skinny jeans and dancers, I
don't dance) (But some shit never changes, like the
Roc) [Verse 3: Chris] Dark Rays, Marc J's, my nigga with a
tall K
From Killadelph to Marcy, with Jigga at the
Barclay We kill them niggas easy, Like "fuck, I
had a
hard day" We walk up, not far away, we shoot right through that hard clay Bullets like Brady, ya vest can't help ya I
form you gon' catch everything, West welcome Salsa dancing on this shit, Victor Cruz Riding with the
chopper like I
ain't got shit to lose I'm a
make the
first page, every channel, peep the
news Neef pull out a
bag of straps, let our shooters pick and choose I'm a
lively nigga's child, boy, you niggas dead (I tell ya) But a
heavy award on niggas' heads Kill 'em quicker than cancer, don't fuck with a
nigga bread It's the
Roc, you bastards, a
classic, you niggas scared? Third time's a
charm, they say three strikes you out Well I
rumble, I'll fight again, I
will Marquez a
bout (See, you missing what we had) (We stay on the
streets) (And you can forget about the
glitz and the
glamour, 'cause they don't mean shit) (Real hustlers stay on their grind) (No matter how much you have, you can always use more) [Verse 4: Memphis Bleek] I'm a, street nigga, real coke flipper I
got some freaks that'll deep-throat niggas Bullets that'll hit ya, sitting in that brick house Or, niggas'll catch you slipping, coming out your bitch house Or, going to the
store for that early-morning Dutch Hop out the
cut with the
mack like "what up?" If you ever disrespect us, talking all reckless You ain't never make enough money for you to check us Them boys back at it, white sheets for the
static Yellow tape's for the
scene,.45 mixed from the
'matic So trust me, you don't want nothing, homie I
put this thing back together, no instructions, homie And then I'm in the
club, bottle sipping, model getting, hater dissing You niggas ain't heard me when I
said it, ain't no competition It's the
Roc – ain't nothing stopped I
still'll set up shop on any block Motherfucker! (Here at the
Roc, we use words like familia, hood, and honor) (We use these as a
backbone of a
life meant defending something) (You use it as a
punch line) (I suggest you pick up a
mic) [Verse: Peedi Crakk] Tipping strippers, licking pictures with niggas that should've been dead They said "Crack, we respect the
fact that you in here" Blowing hoop smoke, thick like a
Newport Life too short, good to see some old friends here PA and BK, back up in the
CH A-N-G, somebody call up the
DA Pedro C, you know me, we with Philippe Between him and Ceeto, that work be finito Wide by the
ego, get hit in the
causeway One thing I
learned from Jay is to do it my way The
sweetest taboo, bitch, you look like Shaday Forehead big, and that ass Louis Thunder Trying eat, so, I'm a
see my brother for an entrée Memphis Bleek know, he can call on his Property compadres What they say out in the
A? They're my partners now Remember them Roc-A-Fella days? We was wilding then [Outro:] It's the
Roc, motherfuckers! Snitch that! Twenty years deep in this game We make history on a
daily basis The
reign is never over It's only just begun
完毕