Royce Da 5'9"

Royce Da 5'9" - Rock That lyrics

rate me

[15 seconds fades-in/instrumental]

[Police sirens]

[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9" {Male Sample} (Kid Vishis)]

I - can't - feel you; I want you to {ROCK THAT} (shiiiit!)

{ROCK THAT} (shiiiit!) - {ROCK THAT} (shiiiit!)

{ROCK THAT} (shiiiit!) - {ROCK THAT} (shiiiit!)

{RO-RO-RO-RO-RO-RO-RO-RO...} [scratches] [x2]

[Verse 1:]

[Royce Da 5'9":]

OOHH! - Put up your hands, show me the real you! (real you!)

If you don't put your hands up then I'm a kill you. (kill you!)

You ain't never been touched; homie, I can't feel you.

I don't listen to threats, nigga I can't hear you! (hello?) (hahaha!)

[Kid Vishis:]

Put up your hands, show me the real you (boo!)

You don't put your hands up, - I'm a kill you! (you!)

I'm the shit, fool. (fool!) It's the king, prince, too. (too!)

I'm the next shit from the I'm Da Shit crew! (crew!)

[Royce Da 5'9":]

OOHH! - Nigga get cool. - "You're my boy, Blue!

Blue, you're my boy! " I'll Chicago, Illinois you!

[Kid Vishis:]

Nigga we'll destroy you!

It's a motherfuckin' wrap, when it come to that heat like aluminum foil!

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]

[Royce Da 5'9":]

Idolize-'em, not-a-lot-of-'em,

Body-by-them-there's-a-bottle by the fags, she-should-try-to-follow the man

With-the-rocks, rocky-as-Colorado standin' on top

Of them; toppin' top the opposition,

I-ain't-quittin'-'til-Vishis-in-my-position

I-drop-this-apocalyptic, you-gotta-be-optimistic; I'm hot, hot, hot, hot!

[Kid Vishis:]

Let's try this shit again! (again!)

Vishis the prince, the topic of the spit this cop nowhere near it,

I'm in a win-win position. (yes!) - Could send killers to knock-knock; who is it? (OOHH!)

Hard in pot, fall by the end of the visit. (yes) - No henchmen!

[Royce Da 5'9":]

Six shots the biscuit! (BLOW!)

Smackin' on his back like I'm burpin a infant! (boom!)

Then nigga put up your hands, show me the real you,

Put money on your head and then I'm a bill YOU.

Take it out yo' ass in hell; I'm on a ratchet trail

And you about to see the Gat derail! - BRAAAT!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: {Male Sample}]

[Kid Vishis:]

OOHH! - Yeah, Vishis and Nickel equipped with pistols; [acapella]

Missiles'll hit your tissue sizzle show you and STAY [echoes] [acapella]

Like Mystikal! [bottle broke] - Clip to whoever riddle, my mental see you and scratch

You tryna scrap to cover up - the fact you CAN'T RAP! [echoes]

[Royce Da 5'9":]

I - can't - feel you; I want you to {ROCK THAT}

Glock that, pop that, shock that!

Down to click twooo's. - I'm a spit truuee!

Dominant creeew. - I'm the SHIT, fooool! - OOHH!

[Kid Vishis:]

Put the clip to a actor - CUT!

You motherfuckers up when it's action, nigga what?!

We don't fight rappers. - We write back at ya;

Black Mack, BLAP! Niggaz back snap backwards. - Ooh!

[Royce Da 5'9":]

Actors, act puss'. - Blow 'em off the atmos-...

... -Fear niggaz should fear on point like a cactus.

You pro'bly need to practice. - That's it! - Backflip!

Word blacksmith! - Herb active, - DOPE! [echoes]

[Chorus]

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