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Roc Boys (And The Winner Is...)

JAY-Z

And the winner is Hov
My man
Speech!

First of all, I wanna thank my connect
The most important person, with all due respect
Thanks to the duffle bag, the brown paper bag
The Nike shoe box for holding all this cash (okay)
Boys in blue who put greed before the badge (okay)
The first pusher who ever made the stash (okay)
The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
Thanks to the lames, niggas with bad aim
Thanks to a little change, I tore you out the game
Bullet wounds will stop your buffoonery
Thanks to the pastor, rapping at your eulogy
To Lil' Kim and them, you know the women-friend who
Carry the work cross state for a gentleman
Yeah, thanks to all the hustlers
And most importantly you: The customer

The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
You don't even gotta bring your paper out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
The Roc Boys in the building tonight
Look at how I'm chilling, I'm killing this ice
You don't even gotta bring ya purses out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
(We in the house-hou'-hou', hey)

Let ya hair down baby, I just hit a score
Pick any place on the planet, pick a shore
Take what the Forbes figured, then figure more
'Cause they forgot to account what I did with the raw
Pick a time, let's pick apart some stores
Pick a weekend for freaking for figure fours
I figure frauds never hit a lick before
So they don't know the feeling when them things get across
Put ya hand out the window, feel the force
Feel the Porsche, hit defrost
Ice-cold, jewels got no flaws
Drop got no top, you on the top floor
Pink Rosé, think OJ
I get away with murder when I sling yay
Her-on got less steps than Britney
That means it ain't stepped on, dig me?

The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
You don't even gotta bring your paper out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
The Roc Boys in the building tonight
Look at how I'm chilling, I'm killing this ice
You don't even gotta bring ya purses out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
(We in the house-hou'-hou', hey)

Rare Porsches, rare portraits
Rare guns if you dare come near the fortress
This apple sauce is from the apple orchard
This kinda talk is only reserved for the bosses
Which means I get it from the ground
Which means you get it when I'm around
Rich niggas, black Bar Mitzvahs
Mazel tov, it's a celebration bitches!
L'chaim!
I wish for you a hundred years of success, but it's my time
Cheers, toast to crime
Number one D-boy, shame he could rhyme

The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
You don't even gotta bring your paper out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
The Roc Boys in the building tonight
Look at how I'm chilling, I'm killing this ice
You don't even gotta bring ya purses out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
(We in the house-hou'-hou', hey)

The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
You don't even gotta bring your paper out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
The Roc Boys in the building tonight
Look at how I'm chilling, I'm killing this ice
You don't even gotta bring ya purses out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
(We in the house-hou'-hou', hey)

The Roc Boys in the building tonight (hey)
Oh, what a feeling, I'm feeling life (hey)
You don't even gotta bring your paper out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
The Roc Boys in the building tonight
Look at how I'm chilling, I'm killing this ice
You don't even gotta bring ya purses out
We the dope boys of the year, drinks is on the house
(We in the house-hou'-hou')
(We in the house-hou'-hou', hey)

Sweet!
Let that ride out!
Bring the horns back in, yeah
This is black superhero music right here, baby
American Gangster
Taking flight, coming to a town near you
Soon as I touch down, I just want y'all to start playing the horns like
Hovi's home!
Lukey, baby!
Hahahahaha, ow!

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Composição: Shawn Carter / Sean Combs / Deleno Matthews / Levar Coppin / Thomas Brenneck / David Guy / Michael Deller / Leon Michels / B. Mann. Essa informação está errada? Nos avise.
Enviada por helio. Legendado por Israel. Revisões por 2 pessoas . Viu algum erro? Envie uma revisão.


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