Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rock That , by - Royce 5'9. Release date: 08.08.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Rock That |
| Ooh! |
| Put up your hands, show me the real you |
| If you don’t put your hands up then I’ma kill you |
| You ain’t never been touched homie, I can’t feel you |
| I don’t listen to threats, n*gga I can’t hear you (hello?) |
| Put up your hands, show me the real you |
| If you don’t put your hands up, I’ma kill you |
| I’m the shit fool, it’s the king prince too |
| I’m the next shit from the I’m Da Shit crew, ooh |
| N*gga get cool, «You're my boy Blue! |
| Blue, you’re my boy!» |
| I’ll Chicago, Illinois you |
| N*gga we’ll destroy you |
| It’s a motherf*ckin' wrap when it come to that heat like aluminum foil |
| I, can’t, feel you; |
| I want you to (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro…) |
| 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 got to be optimistic |
| I’m hot hot hot |
| Let’s try this shit 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?) |
| Hard in pot, fall by the end of the visit (yes) |
| No henchmen |
| Six shots the biscuit |
| Smackin' on his back like I’m burpin' a infant |
| Then n*gga put up your hands, show me the real you |
| Put money on your head and then I’ma bill you |
| Take it out yo ass in hell, I’m on a ratchet trail |
| And you about to see the gat derail! |
| I, can’t, feel you; |
| I want you to (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro…) |
| Yeah, Vishis and Nickel equipped with pistols |
| Missiles’ll hit your tissues sizzle show you and stay, like Mystikal |
| Clip to whoever riddle, my mental see you and scratch |
| You tryin' to scrap to cover up the fact you can’t rap |
| I, can’t, feel you; |
| I want you to (rock that) |
| Glock that, pop that, shock that |
| Down to click twos, I’ma spit true |
| Dominant crew, I’m the shit fool! |
| Ooh! |
| Put the clip to a actor, cut! |
| You motherf*ckers up when it’s action, n*gga what? |
| We don’t fight rappers, we write back at ya |
| Black mac blap, n*ggaz back snap backwards |
| Ooh! |
| Actors, act puss, blow 'em off the atlas |
| Fear n*ggas should fear, on point like a cactus |
| You probably need to practice, that’s it, backflip |
| Word blacksmith, herb active dope! |
| I, can’t, feel you; |
| I want you to (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Rock that) shit (rock that) shit |
| (Ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro…) |
| Ooh! |