redman - rollin' lyrics
nineteen ninety mother f-ckin’ six
that’s that sh-t though
get the motherf-ckin’ squad packed
we got to pull these shoes out like carpet, word is bond
test the crew with the guns and let’s get this sh-t on
why, must i be like that? why, must i pack the gat?
on my left, n-gg-z be rollin’ with the ruckus
ready to get deep bust rounds upon some suckaz
heard ppp and lod is a bunch of crazy motherf-ckers
journey to the land is on
the winner of the spittin’ bomb marathon
the f-ck you up lierathon, whatever you choose
prepare to lose that t-tle
turnin’ vital situations suicidal, my idols, is my uncles
who started smokin’ weed outta bibles
gave me a puff when i bust my first rifle
menstruation cycles, i give b-tches
bring your craziest n-gg-, i’ll give st-tches
whateva, go crew for crew, blow for blow
bang your headpiece
and sniff the snow off your hoe
i keep it rollin’, rollin’
rollin’, rollin’
i keep it rollin’, rollin’
rollin’, rollin’
ask yourself man
how ugly do you have to be to be a hardcore m. c.?
n-gg-z be fooled by my plaques and my light skin complexture
my whole texture is bombin’, destroyin’ da schools of the wack
from the ‘land of the lost’, you get tossed
listen to my veloc, my crew’s comin’ off
yeah, more sneaky than casino switches
diggin’ ditches for all moschino b-tches
clockin’ decimal figures, i’m gettin’ out diggers
now my choice of truck is a land
’cause a land cruise much bigger
it pack two to three more n-gg-z
d-mn i hate a golddigger
yeah, gimme that microphone
i make opponents sh-t bricks like tyson’s home
i keep the jacked cellular phone blown in three zones
love seafood and keep my nine millimis chrome
so it can shine up your dome
when i proceed to give you what you need
and clear spots like sea breeze
wreckin’ your -ss armageddon style
twenty four seven while
my crew chin check your profile
rollin’, rollin”
rollin’, rollin”
n-gg-z be rollin’
n-gg-z be rollin’
rollin’, rollin”
rollin’, rollin’
i’m the master of disaster, super rhyme maker
grimy by nature, database maker
play ’em out like sega saturn
blow your blocks in patterns for about nine acres
testes, crew wearin’ bulletproof and double ss
karl kani down, camouflage can’t hide the sounds
of a fo’ pound
givin you six flags, bustin’ merry go rounds
but my crew stay ill with that unreal appeal
i be the raw water, my cheek bones outta have gills
below like the opera
smooth on the trigger for all you block c-ckers
i be the key to criminology
blast and rotate enemies at three buck sixty
pick me, as your senator
take the dove from your battlefield son, f-ck, pat benatar
run, head for the hills, back in the day, these n-gg-z
rolled up on me with the trunk filled with bomber brooklyns
sheeps and quartervilles, take that sh-t, money snap the grill
body caught chills as he ate this nine mil
mine kills two but my nine was sign sealed
and ready to deliver but money had me too close
to reach for toast, soon as that n-gg- blink i broke ghost
dash back to south orange ave with dollar bill to smoke dope
i keep ’em rollin’
this is d. j., say what? on this motherf-cker
sayin’, “the d-ck is long, but my time is short”
before i go, just remember
if your box ain’t on fds radio, you’re f-ckin’ up
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