Lyrics Roll Call - The Cool Kids, BOLDY JAMES, Chip Tha Ripper

Roll Call

This for all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
It’s Mike Rocks, take a look up top
I had the Iceberg sweaters and the jeans
Back in '01
Daffy Duck running on the stomach of that sweater
Chicago get it, inside all leather
Point a loud bitch out if you know one
Talking about shopping sprees
Damn, now we on one
I’m just kidding, ain’t gonna be no bag-getting
Casino-ass niggas always throw their chips in
Throw it in the bag, like
The bag that the chips in
Bag after bag of that cabbage we twisting
Thinking about our existence
And sticking to the mission
You could get a lot off top
Or you could get that pot that you piss in
Depends if you was listening
We’ve been to Michigan Ave
With bag handles in hand
And sandals on sand
Ain’t a better match
Put 20 on the game, man
That’s plenty in the tank
But never scratch
Let me battle back
This for all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
It’s Charles Chop and it this shit don’t stop
Don’t stop.
The governor, the mayor
The president, the rest of them
I’m dressed in Guess jeans
Pocket buzzing text messages
Left hand roll it, pass me the lighter
Right hand jab job to your face
Like we’re fighting, uppercutting niggas up
Feeling tougher than a leather seat
To the ground like I threw you down
From a couple stories
Don’t drop it, don’t lock my door
I got the key in the ignition
We at the corner store kicking it
This is it, nigga this that shit
Them rhymes that’ll stick to your ribs, kid
Not that fake soy meat
Bite this homie, that’s bad for your wellness
Health insurance coverage couldn’t cover regardless
You looking like us and we ain’t even get started!
That’s why we don’t believe you
Fuck it man, power to the people
This for all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
Now what you know about a cold winter in the middle of Chicago
Sitting 20 inches of precipitation on the pavement
I’ve been waiting for the warm weather
This sweater’s getting heavy on me
Getting sweaty while I’m getting ever-ready
Like a wrestler, mentally in shape
I train about 5 times a day for like 9 hours straight
Tied tight around on my waist
Run a mile under 3, it’s a breeze
I can do it all angles, 90 degrees
Gotta keep the knees up
Young Buck never ease up
Kids take a seat, it’s time to meet teach
Mike rock Economs while I be on physics
JP engineers while Chuck instructs English
We up in this
Don’t think for one minute I’ll play dumb, you dumbs
You come sit front and center
Pay attention to the lessons of professors
Speaking to our generation: now or never
This for all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
For all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
Chip 216
It only take about an hour for a young G to get ready
How long it’s gonna take you lightweights to get heavy?
A lot of niggas got rock, but my rock’s steady
Consistent, a couple misfits with some 'fetti
Ride 'round LA blowing them trees
I need a soccer mom like that MILF off Weeds who sell weed
So I can pay her in full
With this, she says she needs a Raging Bull
Husband must be fired and
Paypal’s the new-new
No need to wire that invoice balance
Sweat is the challenge
Hop on turnpipes, smoke out in palace
Gallaird, Benz, Lex, whatever I decide to
Chuck don’t fuck with foreign cars, but I do!
Louis covers up the eyes with your Piru
And shut these corny-rapping niggas once I eye you
This for all y’all
Roll call
If you’re live then state your name
It’s like bust that (bust that), who’s that (who was that)?
James Jones from the drug zone
The simley happy
And the black troops
I had to grab more with react juice
Started with the gun on my belt loop
The black-on-black Force Ones with the black swoosh
Like a box of Chex Mix
Triple fat Goose, rocking Goretex
And Air Max boots
My CD ¾ Charles Barkley
Had me dunking on my teachers in
Took me running from police on the concrete
Without scuffing my Timberland or Nike
Team Wolverine, you have been
They call me King of the concrete
And I’m Jimmy Dean: high top beat
With this team on my sport team
get some courtside seats