[*Girl speaking french, then says*] Roc-A-Fella y'all [Intro - Jay-Z]: It's the Roc (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) Woo!! R-O, R-O-C, nigga (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) HOV! R-O-C, niggas (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) (Trackmasters) R-O-C, niggas (Jay-Z) [Verse 1]: Come on a track like duh-duh-duh-duh Wit' a throw-back jersey and a fitted Might blow a bag of hersey and adcentives I might take sips of army wit' a chi-ick, I'm so sick wit' it Lampin' in the Hamptons, the weekends, man In Stan Smith Adidas and a Campus Or plain guts on a cruise, Hermaine boat shoes The Izod bucket on, I'm so old school Yellow wristwatch, Gucci flip-flops Six top model chicks, who is this hot? J-A, ladies help me say it now, Y-Z, mami, why you playin' wit' me? Ride wit' me, get high as me How it's supposed to be, when you rollin' wit' G's HOV! Back up in this bitch like whoa Jigga get this whole shit jumpin' like 6-4's [Chorus]: (Hov) He is I and I am him (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) Slim with the tilted brim on 20-inch rims (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) If y'all got love for me, I got love for y'all (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) And if y'all go to war for me, I'll go to war wit' y'all (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga) [Verse 2]: HOV! It's on, breeze through jeans, it's easy, too She's respondin', top is C. Bronson We in Luon, gettin' our groove on Buyin' out the bar on our way to spa She never seen a hundred on the wrist before Never seen 22's on a six before I am KILLIN' 'EM OUT THERE, they needin first aid 'Cause the boy got more sixes then first grade The crib got, killer views and square feet You have to film MTV Cribs for a week So, sleep if you need to, mami, I will leave you Right where you stand, naw, I don't wanna dance (nah, I'm good) I just wanna see what's in you Frankie B. pants Waist is low enough to let your waist show Top like a rock star, I got a fast car We can cruise the city, doin' a buck-60 [Chorus] [Verse 3]: HE DID IT AGAIN?! Haters no like But they gotta fuck wit' it 'cause the flow's so tight Gnarly, dude, I puff Bob Marley, dude All day like Rastafaris do Now I'm stuck to the point, alcoholic mood You fuckin' up my high, don't bother me, dude Wit' red Rovers, send ya hoes over She can do WHATEVER, sip somethin' wit' soda She can leave WHENEVER, sip somethin' wit' Hova We can play HOWEVER, sleigh, bed or sofa And the prognosis, sex is explosive Left her wit' wet bed sheets, nigga I'm FOCUSED [Chorus] [Jay-Z]: WHOA! R-O-C, R-O-C, niggas (T.M.) R-O-C, niggas (Roc-A-Fella, y'all)
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