Ay yo back woods rollin'
Rap you can't hold 'em
ROC gear matchin' crews
Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'
What more can I say?
We still killin' em
Bags we still dealin' em
Four wheels, we wheelin' them
Chicks like I'm feelin' him
Yeah ma okay
Black jeans and Timberlands
Give them adrenaline rush
Ladies know the difference between them niggas and us
We the R-O-C and we don't stop
They don't make a gun that we don't pop
Matter fact they don't make a car that we don't drop
Thought you knew they don't make jewels that we don't cop
What you knew? You actin' like the ROC ain't hot
Or the car that I cop ain't missin' a top
And even if they don't make drops that kind
I tear da roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes motherfucker
