Rock Rock Y'all Lyrics
| Song | Rock Rock Y'all |
| Artist | Wordsworth |
| Artist | YoungStar |
| Artist | Jane Doe & Mos Def |
| Album | The Love Movement |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Fareed, Gadson, Johnson ... | |
| [Punch] Yo! | |
| We about to rock this joint, from the family. | |
| And we want ya'll all to know, that it's time... | |
| CHORUS (all): | |
| To rock rock ya'll | |
| Freak freak ya'll | |
| To the beat ya'll | |
| It's unique ya'll (2x) [Punch] | |
| A-yo praise the master, make plans wit' your pastor | |
| My rap'll blast ya, send you to the hereafter | |
| I push a tractor, for horses grazin' in the pasture | |
| Ya heard I was trickin', the whole room filled with laughter | |
| In ciphers, | |
| I'm the one you don't rhyme after | |
| You only know half of the math, it don't add up | |
| The lead batter, my hits make ya frame shatter | |
| Watch me now! | |
| Just begun like | |
| Jimmy Castor | |
| I'm bad luck just like walkin' under ladders | |
| Mad rappers, book of life, last chapter | |
| Me and my squad build just like contractors | |
| I break shit, you only give hairline fractures | |
| Women flash us, don't know ya better ask us | |
| A bastard, wit' more contacts than | |
| Lens Crafters | |
| Tear down the rafters, venerials couldn't clap us | |
| You need practice, hit chicks then | |
| I'm Casper [Jane Doe] | |
| The church of scientology, feminine biology | |
| Manic depressive psychologically, | |
| A.D.D. alive and we | |
| Polluted by technology, the fumes and its ecology | |
| While your thought you was out of copy | |
| I get nastier than sodomy | |
| Probably an oddesey, started back on robbery | |
| Was the degree of the economy that do the sovereignty | |
| Regarded as a prodigy, leery in sociology | |
| Let the wallabees always conceal my gynecology | |
| Rhymin' pathologically, that's how it gotta be! | |
| Never makin' no apology, worshippin' my anthropology | |
| Fuck modesty, studyin' microbiology | |
| Causin' verbal lobotomy, it's in my geneology | |
| Six months of sobriety, movin' very methodically | |
| Like a unicorn, more ways than oceanography | |
| Guard technology, rip shows antibiotically | |
| True thugs bionically, give birth to criminology [Words] | |
| Yo as a youngin', | |
| I swear to | |
| God you couldn't tell me nothin' | |
| I swore I was gettin' somethin', clothes or humpin' | |
| For girls with the church, slacks with some shirts tucked in | |
| I set it up for money, my mom worked when | |
| I was cuttin' | |
| Unsigned strugglin', for the heat | |
| I lit the oven | |
| One would by the | |
| CD, the other would do the dubbin' | |
| Before I met | |
| Rob, I was in the clubs frontin' | |
| Oh yeah I know the | |
| Tip, when | |
| I see him | |
| I be duckin' | |
| But now when | |
| I'm clubbin', those that used to dis were buggin' | |
| Overweight chicks, spandex, they stomachs sucked in | |
| Stay interruptin', dance and try to cut in | |
| Told people you got in free when you really snuck in [Q-Tip] | |
| We never get concerned about who's in the league | |
| We just stay workin' so no one will need | |
| An unconcerned outsider givin' niggaz feed | |
| My niggaz puff weed but negotiate the seed | |
| The family is granite and you can't intercede | |
| I try to switch lanes at this operatin' speed | |
| Cats in the game be gamblin' with greed | |
| We the house, you the player and we gonna catch these | |
| Who's the | |
| Sam Sneed makin' microphones bleed | |
| Poker face creed while my mind just read | |
| Shorty got rhythm but her freak got freed | |
| That's insignificant but this take heed [Mos Def] | |
| They say I'm pretty like | |
| Clay is, bright like the day is | |
| Beats from my fleet be sweet like | |
| Sugar Ray is | |
| I'm swingin' this from | |
| Bay Ridge to where the | |
| Oakland Bay is | |
| My game is tough to play, | |
| I'm tough to weigh like your safe is | |
| The aim is, to make you recognize what the name is | |
| Mos Def gon' set it straight from where the 718 is | |
| The place with the great superiginate the flavors | |
| An all-star block with some all-star laymans (Turn the music down!) | |
| This is probably some haters | |
| Achin' cuz they hear us rotatin' on the playlist > | |
| From B-boy laces to | |
| Detroit gators | |
| Yo Tip I got to bail, where the scale? | |
| Help me weigh this... | |
| Yo! We wan't ya'll to know...that this is the family, right? | |
| And what we want everybody out there to do...on the dance floor... is get ready...because noooowwwwww we gonna... | |
| CHORUS (6x) to fade out |
| zuo ci : Fareed, Gadson, Johnson ... | |
| Punch Yo! | |
| We about to rock this joint, from the family. | |
| And we want ya' ll all to know, that it' s time... | |
| CHORUS all: | |
| To rock rock ya' ll | |
| Freak freak ya' ll | |
| To the beat ya' ll | |
| It' s unique ya' ll 2x Punch | |
| Ayo praise the master, make plans wit' your pastor | |
| My rap' ll blast ya, send you to the hereafter | |
| I push a tractor, for horses grazin' in the pasture | |
| Ya heard I was trickin', the whole room filled with laughter | |
| In ciphers, | |
| I' m the one you don' t rhyme after | |
| You only know half of the math, it don' t add up | |
| The lead batter, my hits make ya frame shatter | |
| Watch me now! | |
| Just begun like | |
| Jimmy Castor | |
| I' m bad luck just like walkin' under ladders | |
| Mad rappers, book of life, last chapter | |
| Me and my squad build just like contractors | |
| I break shit, you only give hairline fractures | |
| Women flash us, don' t know ya better ask us | |
| A bastard, wit' more contacts than | |
| Lens Crafters | |
| Tear down the rafters, venerials couldn' t clap us | |
| You need practice, hit chicks then | |
| I' m Casper Jane Doe | |
| The church of scientology, feminine biology | |
| Manic depressive psychologically, | |
| A. D. D. alive and we | |
| Polluted by technology, the fumes and its ecology | |
| While your thought you was out of copy | |
| I get nastier than sodomy | |
| Probably an oddesey, started back on robbery | |
| Was the degree of the economy that do the sovereignty | |
| Regarded as a prodigy, leery in sociology | |
| Let the wallabees always conceal my gynecology | |
| Rhymin' pathologically, that' s how it gotta be! | |
| Never makin' no apology, worshippin' my anthropology | |
| Fuck modesty, studyin' microbiology | |
| Causin' verbal lobotomy, it' s in my geneology | |
| Six months of sobriety, movin' very methodically | |
| Like a unicorn, more ways than oceanography | |
| Guard technology, rip shows antibiotically | |
| True thugs bionically, give birth to criminology Words | |
| Yo as a youngin', | |
| I swear to | |
| God you couldn' t tell me nothin' | |
| I swore I was gettin' somethin', clothes or humpin' | |
| For girls with the church, slacks with some shirts tucked in | |
| I set it up for money, my mom worked when | |
| I was cuttin' | |
| Unsigned strugglin', for the heat | |
| I lit the oven | |
| One would by the | |
| CD, the other would do the dubbin' | |
| Before I met | |
| Rob, I was in the clubs frontin' | |
| Oh yeah I know the | |
| Tip, when | |
| I see him | |
| I be duckin' | |
| But now when | |
| I' m clubbin', those that used to dis were buggin' | |
| Overweight chicks, spandex, they stomachs sucked in | |
| Stay interruptin', dance and try to cut in | |
| Told people you got in free when you really snuck in QTip | |
| We never get concerned about who' s in the league | |
| We just stay workin' so no one will need | |
| An unconcerned outsider givin' niggaz feed | |
| My niggaz puff weed but negotiate the seed | |
| The family is granite and you can' t intercede | |
| I try to switch lanes at this operatin' speed | |
| Cats in the game be gamblin' with greed | |
| We the house, you the player and we gonna catch these | |
| Who' s the | |
| Sam Sneed makin' microphones bleed | |
| Poker face creed while my mind just read | |
| Shorty got rhythm but her freak got freed | |
| That' s insignificant but this take heed Mos Def | |
| They say I' m pretty like | |
| Clay is, bright like the day is | |
| Beats from my fleet be sweet like | |
| Sugar Ray is | |
| I' m swingin' this from | |
| Bay Ridge to where the | |
| Oakland Bay is | |
| My game is tough to play, | |
| I' m tough to weigh like your safe is | |
| The aim is, to make you recognize what the name is | |
| Mos Def gon' set it straight from where the 718 is | |
| The place with the great superiginate the flavors | |
| An allstar block with some allstar laymans Turn the music down! | |
| This is probably some haters | |
| Achin' cuz they hear us rotatin' on the playlist | |
| From Bboy laces to | |
| Detroit gators | |
| Yo Tip I got to bail, where the scale? | |
| Help me weigh this... | |
| Yo! We wan' t ya' ll to know... that this is the family, right? | |
| And what we want everybody out there to do... on the dance floor... is get ready... because noooowwwwww we gonna... | |
| CHORUS 6x to fade out |
| zuò cí : Fareed, Gadson, Johnson ... | |
| Punch Yo! | |
| We about to rock this joint, from the family. | |
| And we want ya' ll all to know, that it' s time... | |
| CHORUS all: | |
| To rock rock ya' ll | |
| Freak freak ya' ll | |
| To the beat ya' ll | |
| It' s unique ya' ll 2x Punch | |
| Ayo praise the master, make plans wit' your pastor | |
| My rap' ll blast ya, send you to the hereafter | |
| I push a tractor, for horses grazin' in the pasture | |
| Ya heard I was trickin', the whole room filled with laughter | |
| In ciphers, | |
| I' m the one you don' t rhyme after | |
| You only know half of the math, it don' t add up | |
| The lead batter, my hits make ya frame shatter | |
| Watch me now! | |
| Just begun like | |
| Jimmy Castor | |
| I' m bad luck just like walkin' under ladders | |
| Mad rappers, book of life, last chapter | |
| Me and my squad build just like contractors | |
| I break shit, you only give hairline fractures | |
| Women flash us, don' t know ya better ask us | |
| A bastard, wit' more contacts than | |
| Lens Crafters | |
| Tear down the rafters, venerials couldn' t clap us | |
| You need practice, hit chicks then | |
| I' m Casper Jane Doe | |
| The church of scientology, feminine biology | |
| Manic depressive psychologically, | |
| A. D. D. alive and we | |
| Polluted by technology, the fumes and its ecology | |
| While your thought you was out of copy | |
| I get nastier than sodomy | |
| Probably an oddesey, started back on robbery | |
| Was the degree of the economy that do the sovereignty | |
| Regarded as a prodigy, leery in sociology | |
| Let the wallabees always conceal my gynecology | |
| Rhymin' pathologically, that' s how it gotta be! | |
| Never makin' no apology, worshippin' my anthropology | |
| Fuck modesty, studyin' microbiology | |
| Causin' verbal lobotomy, it' s in my geneology | |
| Six months of sobriety, movin' very methodically | |
| Like a unicorn, more ways than oceanography | |
| Guard technology, rip shows antibiotically | |
| True thugs bionically, give birth to criminology Words | |
| Yo as a youngin', | |
| I swear to | |
| God you couldn' t tell me nothin' | |
| I swore I was gettin' somethin', clothes or humpin' | |
| For girls with the church, slacks with some shirts tucked in | |
| I set it up for money, my mom worked when | |
| I was cuttin' | |
| Unsigned strugglin', for the heat | |
| I lit the oven | |
| One would by the | |
| CD, the other would do the dubbin' | |
| Before I met | |
| Rob, I was in the clubs frontin' | |
| Oh yeah I know the | |
| Tip, when | |
| I see him | |
| I be duckin' | |
| But now when | |
| I' m clubbin', those that used to dis were buggin' | |
| Overweight chicks, spandex, they stomachs sucked in | |
| Stay interruptin', dance and try to cut in | |
| Told people you got in free when you really snuck in QTip | |
| We never get concerned about who' s in the league | |
| We just stay workin' so no one will need | |
| An unconcerned outsider givin' niggaz feed | |
| My niggaz puff weed but negotiate the seed | |
| The family is granite and you can' t intercede | |
| I try to switch lanes at this operatin' speed | |
| Cats in the game be gamblin' with greed | |
| We the house, you the player and we gonna catch these | |
| Who' s the | |
| Sam Sneed makin' microphones bleed | |
| Poker face creed while my mind just read | |
| Shorty got rhythm but her freak got freed | |
| That' s insignificant but this take heed Mos Def | |
| They say I' m pretty like | |
| Clay is, bright like the day is | |
| Beats from my fleet be sweet like | |
| Sugar Ray is | |
| I' m swingin' this from | |
| Bay Ridge to where the | |
| Oakland Bay is | |
| My game is tough to play, | |
| I' m tough to weigh like your safe is | |
| The aim is, to make you recognize what the name is | |
| Mos Def gon' set it straight from where the 718 is | |
| The place with the great superiginate the flavors | |
| An allstar block with some allstar laymans Turn the music down! | |
| This is probably some haters | |
| Achin' cuz they hear us rotatin' on the playlist | |
| From Bboy laces to | |
| Detroit gators | |
| Yo Tip I got to bail, where the scale? | |
| Help me weigh this... | |
| Yo! We wan' t ya' ll to know... that this is the family, right? | |
| And what we want everybody out there to do... on the dance floor... is get ready... because noooowwwwww we gonna... | |
| CHORUS 6x to fade out |
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