Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rock Da Spot, artist - Redman. Album song Muddy Waters, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1995
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM, RAL
Song language: English
Rock Da Spot |
Rock da spot |
Rock da spot |
Rock da spot |
I’m the bomb, ringin' off all types alarms |
My palms, be swift with the pen like Lynn Swann’s |
Aggravated assault, against an MC |
Beat him down with the mic and all types of pedigrees |
It’s mad real in Da Bricks, plus I roll thick |
You can quote this, I’m the Moby Dick of dopeness |
Bitch, walk the walk if you talk the talk |
I DK New Jerz, and DK-New York |
I don’t push a lot of vehicles, but I push a used one |
With a tape deck, if it’s feasible |
Tell the truth, I don’t own a Lex Coupe |
But I get you souped when I rock respect due |
I’sa nice nigga that wanna get diced |
Slice the mic device like the body of Christ twice |
E Double if you feel me hit me once, a breaker one, a breaker two |
'Cause trouble to you family and friends |
Let me cut the bullshit, just hand me yo ends |
Got caught out there 'cause you a Mack without 10 |
Punch you in your chin |
The rucker, bringer, live from Hell, but stay cooler than a double L |
Turn a felony to a misdemeanor |
Now the court subpeonaed me to get my act cleaner |
Fuck that, still walk out holdin' my strap |
Blunt, grabbin' my weiner |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
Now first of all I go for broke, check the third quarter note |
I make you feel like your water broke |
Can’t tell whether male or female |
I fucked up your frame well, the monogram can’t tell |
All aboard my balls, 'cause my dick don’t got a lot of room |
For the rest of y’all |
Grab on my pubics, let my music take flight |
Rock indo and out-do', dick run in and out yo' |
Bitch, about nine inch up the clit |
Can you feel me comin', yeah I usually make 'em shit |
I shines MC’s up for auction |
So I can sell 'em on Saturday, Keith put the bat away |
Let’s lay in the cut, so we can break his whole anatomy down |
And turn into an ass-kicking holiday |
Word, I rolls with the Funklord |
With more flavors than them motherfuckers on them Benetton billboards |
He’s bleeding get the gauze |
He shoulda knew Def Squad crew is who I kill for |
Push the clip in, slide the top back |
Make sure it’s off safety, in case he wanna counteract |
Shit like that get me vexed |
So I crack your ass like corn while your bitch crack my Beck’s |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
Rock da spot |
Aiyyo, catch this picture, of me in the mixture |
So you won’t forget the, black Jack the Ripper |
Sorceror offin' y’all with techniques |
A universal lingo, with the odd speaks |
Control more blacks than Harlem week, freak |
Smokin' that leak at full peak |
Peace to Greg Street, and underground radio technique |
College radio, no I mack shit like Maceo |
Yeah, the East Coast West Coast dick giver |
I oughta be an alkie, the way I hit liver |
Deliver, the milk to your door, real raw |
Shit you never seen before |
So when you come inside, and do the front |
Watch the double-pump shotgun and please don’t run |
Relax your minds, let your conscious be free |
And get money, and G’s and roll these trees |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
When I’m gonna rock da spot |
Rock da spot |
This is DJ Saywhat, on this motherfucker |
Comin' to you live from WFDS radio from da Brick City |