Rock That - Royce 5'9, Kid Vishis

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!