Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rock That, artist - Royce 5'9.
Date of issue: 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! |