You know we had to do a remix right?
Ho, ho, ho, ho (Free)
All you Young Gunnerz
Hey Just', this the one right here, baby
I told you, dawg
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause I still will knock your ass the f*ck out
I bring the hood when I'm travelin'
Scrap backwoods unravelin'
Scrap smoke good when we travelin'
Forget the Mac's 'cause the K's fit good in the Caravan
I clap up your hood like the hammer man
Bring your gat, better bust it if you get that close
You scared to clap better strap your folks (strap, your, folks)
Who want beef with State P?
Enemies try to speak to me
Negative they don't get that close
It's Free, listen
Blow trees with Mac Mittens
(No we didn't) yes, we did
(Switch beginnings) Smith and Wesson precision
Bring the broads down with ribbons
(Leave a mess in your crib)
Caught a play nigga?
(You f*ckin' with some made niggas)
Hit him with the AK nigga (no you didn't)
Yes, I did
On my paid shit, wait a minute, when this vacant
Snatch the cake up out his crib
(Then slide, uh)
I'm like the baker with your pies (then rise)
Set up shop and distribute where you live
It's Freeway in the place with my squad
And we got what it takes to dump the K, flip your ride
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to Young Freak
'Cause fifty shots still will turn the club out, ho
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E yeah
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break
It's Murph Dun in the place with Nelly
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say to my face
'Cause I got what it takes to shake the whole place
Murphy Lee's eighteen entertainin 'em
Twenty-one when I'm clubbin' it
Fake ID for the f*ck of it (yeah)
I'm just a school boy, somewhat new, boy
If you can't get Nelly you'a settle for who, boy?
Two-toy carrier, two stashes
One truck that seats six asses (yeah)
Twenty-twos to confuse the masses
Remove glasses, blow smoke up in my ashes
I used to drive my mama stuff
Now the school boy puttin' twenties on the Bomb Pop truck (yeah)
I make rappers go back to the block
They be like, "Maybe I was better off sellin' rocks"
I'm Murphey Lee in the place to be punk
And I got enough skunk to fill the whole blunt (yeah)
I take trips with chumps up in my trunk
And I take 'em real far to a safe place to dump
It's Mister countdown
I'm with ya dirty, get down and lay down
Finance a pay-down, heard what I said now?
See how I proceed with caution
My whip crack fast all you niggas in horses
Randy Moss', I play when I wanna
Nut check, gut check, 'cause I say what I wanna
Around-around six in the six with the throwback
Sixers, number six Julius Irv'
Cris' and the herb, make it hard to swerve
Throw your hands up, if you didn't bang your rim on the curb
You gettin' head while you was makin a turn
I strike a nerve and old MC's wantin' a comeback
I got respect but it's lost and that's a fact
Like K, no-one here even said your name
R, you really feelin' guilty bout somethin' man
S, sad to see you really just want just
One more hit, please, please
You the first old man who should get a rapper's pension
No we ain't system call this mic invention
I'm snitchin'? Matter fact stay the f*ck out the kitchen
Nelly kickin' with too many dimensions
Midwest, and we aim about mid-chest
Duked on my side, too many in my tribe
Coupe outside, who the f*ck want a ride?
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break (uh-oh)
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E, yeah
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
Yeah yeah, it's the- it's the Roc, nigga
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Roc the Mic (Remix) Video (MV)
Performed By: Nelly
From Album: Nellyville
Language: English
Length: 4:17
Written by: Cornell Haynes, Dwight Grant, Justin Gregory Smith, Leslie Pridgen, Tohri Murphy Lee Harper
Year: 2002
Nelly - Roc the Mic (Remix) Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
You know we had to do a remix right?
Ho, ho, ho, ho (Free)
All you Young Gunnerz
Hey Just', this the one right here, baby
I told you, dawg
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause I still will knock your ass the f*ck out
I bring the hood when I'm travelin'
Scrap backwoods unravelin'
Scrap smoke good when we travelin'
Forget the Mac's 'cause the K's fit good in the Caravan
I clap up your hood like the hammer man
Bring your gat, better bust it if you get that close
You scared to clap better strap your folks (strap, your, folks)
Who want beef with State P?
Enemies try to speak to me
Negative they don't get that close
It's Free, listen
Blow trees with Mac Mittens
(No we didn't) yes, we did
(Switch beginnings) Smith and Wesson precision
Bring the broads down with ribbons
(Leave a mess in your crib)
Caught a play nigga?
(You f*ckin' with some made niggas)
Hit him with the AK nigga (no you didn't)
Yes, I did
On my paid shit, wait a minute, when this vacant
Snatch the cake up out his crib
(Then slide, uh)
I'm like the baker with your pies (then rise)
Set up shop and distribute where you live
It's Freeway in the place with my squad
And we got what it takes to dump the K, flip your ride
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to Young Freak
'Cause fifty shots still will turn the club out, ho
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E yeah
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break
It's Murph Dun in the place with Nelly
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say to my face
'Cause I got what it takes to shake the whole place
Murphy Lee's eighteen entertainin 'em
Twenty-one when I'm clubbin' it
Fake ID for the f*ck of it (yeah)
I'm just a school boy, somewhat new, boy
If you can't get Nelly you'a settle for who, boy?
Two-toy carrier, two stashes
One truck that seats six asses (yeah)
Twenty-twos to confuse the masses
Remove glasses, blow smoke up in my ashes
I used to drive my mama stuff
Now the school boy puttin' twenties on the Bomb Pop truck (yeah)
I make rappers go back to the block
They be like, "Maybe I was better off sellin' rocks"
I'm Murphey Lee in the place to be punk
And I got enough skunk to fill the whole blunt (yeah)
I take trips with chumps up in my trunk
And I take 'em real far to a safe place to dump
It's Mister countdown
I'm with ya dirty, get down and lay down
Finance a pay-down, heard what I said now?
See how I proceed with caution
My whip crack fast all you niggas in horses
Randy Moss', I play when I wanna
Nut check, gut check, 'cause I say what I wanna
Around-around six in the six with the throwback
Sixers, number six Julius Irv'
Cris' and the herb, make it hard to swerve
Throw your hands up, if you didn't bang your rim on the curb
You gettin' head while you was makin a turn
I strike a nerve and old MC's wantin' a comeback
I got respect but it's lost and that's a fact
Like K, no-one here even said your name
R, you really feelin' guilty bout somethin' man
S, sad to see you really just want just
One more hit, please, please
You the first old man who should get a rapper's pension
No we ain't system call this mic invention
I'm snitchin'? Matter fact stay the f*ck out the kitchen
Nelly kickin' with too many dimensions
Midwest, and we aim about mid-chest
Duked on my side, too many in my tribe
Coupe outside, who the f*ck want a ride?
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break (uh-oh)
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E, yeah
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
Yeah yeah, it's the- it's the Roc, nigga
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho (Free)
All you Young Gunnerz
Hey Just', this the one right here, baby
I told you, dawg
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause I still will knock your ass the f*ck out
I bring the hood when I'm travelin'
Scrap backwoods unravelin'
Scrap smoke good when we travelin'
Forget the Mac's 'cause the K's fit good in the Caravan
I clap up your hood like the hammer man
Bring your gat, better bust it if you get that close
You scared to clap better strap your folks (strap, your, folks)
Who want beef with State P?
Enemies try to speak to me
Negative they don't get that close
It's Free, listen
Blow trees with Mac Mittens
(No we didn't) yes, we did
(Switch beginnings) Smith and Wesson precision
Bring the broads down with ribbons
(Leave a mess in your crib)
Caught a play nigga?
(You f*ckin' with some made niggas)
Hit him with the AK nigga (no you didn't)
Yes, I did
On my paid shit, wait a minute, when this vacant
Snatch the cake up out his crib
(Then slide, uh)
I'm like the baker with your pies (then rise)
Set up shop and distribute where you live
It's Freeway in the place with my squad
And we got what it takes to dump the K, flip your ride
It's B. Sig in the place with State P
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to Young Freak
'Cause fifty shots still will turn the club out, ho
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E yeah
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break
It's Murph Dun in the place with Nelly
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say to my face
'Cause I got what it takes to shake the whole place
Murphy Lee's eighteen entertainin 'em
Twenty-one when I'm clubbin' it
Fake ID for the f*ck of it (yeah)
I'm just a school boy, somewhat new, boy
If you can't get Nelly you'a settle for who, boy?
Two-toy carrier, two stashes
One truck that seats six asses (yeah)
Twenty-twos to confuse the masses
Remove glasses, blow smoke up in my ashes
I used to drive my mama stuff
Now the school boy puttin' twenties on the Bomb Pop truck (yeah)
I make rappers go back to the block
They be like, "Maybe I was better off sellin' rocks"
I'm Murphey Lee in the place to be punk
And I got enough skunk to fill the whole blunt (yeah)
I take trips with chumps up in my trunk
And I take 'em real far to a safe place to dump
It's Mister countdown
I'm with ya dirty, get down and lay down
Finance a pay-down, heard what I said now?
See how I proceed with caution
My whip crack fast all you niggas in horses
Randy Moss', I play when I wanna
Nut check, gut check, 'cause I say what I wanna
Around-around six in the six with the throwback
Sixers, number six Julius Irv'
Cris' and the herb, make it hard to swerve
Throw your hands up, if you didn't bang your rim on the curb
You gettin' head while you was makin a turn
I strike a nerve and old MC's wantin' a comeback
I got respect but it's lost and that's a fact
Like K, no-one here even said your name
R, you really feelin' guilty bout somethin' man
S, sad to see you really just want just
One more hit, please, please
You the first old man who should get a rapper's pension
No we ain't system call this mic invention
I'm snitchin'? Matter fact stay the f*ck out the kitchen
Nelly kickin' with too many dimensions
Midwest, and we aim about mid-chest
Duked on my side, too many in my tribe
Coupe outside, who the f*ck want a ride?
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
You better watch what you say around here
'Cause there's somethin' on my waist to make the whole place break (uh-oh)
It's Freeway in the place with State P
And we got what it takes to the rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to B. Sig
'Cause we got what it takes to dump the D-E, yeah
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
All a y'all need to one yo self
Go get the burner, nigga, bang yo-self
Yeah yeah, it's the- it's the Roc, nigga
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Writer: Cornell Haynes, Dwight Grant, Justin Gregory Smith, Leslie Pridgen, Tohri Murphy Lee Harper
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
