Joell Ortiz - Roll Deep lyrics
[Joell Ortiz - Roll Deep lyrics]
Yeah, that's it, you found it
My nigga Victor gon' fuckin' kill
This shit right here (I roll deep like a
Motherfucking Puerto Rican)
Oh you ain't know?
You could leave with half of
Your face with one Ayo (AYO)
We play no games, been that fuego
Bang then we lay low, plane to the island
I’m with Tego ice grill chill out
Melt your whole grill out
Mouth piece spill out, you laying there
Still out waking up the ambulance
Paperwork to fill out
We hop up in them new things that peel out
Ain’t nothing sweet, our bakery is street
Heroes get holes like bagels, we roll deep
It’s straight bread over here, fireworks
Everywhere, you over there, huh?
Fam, you live once, dead
I’m in here going Pernil
That’s one step up from ham
I do it ‘cause, I can, I got that
Live music in my pocket, bands
I roll deep like a motherfucking Puerto Rican
Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico
Puerto Rico
Yep, yep, I do this, fuck up intruders
Pull up to your block in
A putt putt with shooters
I’m hood to the hood power
Salute your boy with a good Yaowa (YAOWA)
Hard man, you let in a dope boy pedaller
Still got work with a chirp on a cellular
Still in the hood, I’m a barber shop regular
Ask about the boy, man, etcetera
My broads is the baddest, horses and carriage
I could walk in with
Something gorgeous from Paris
Back side, yaowa, awesome
Back shots later on, i snag it
Yeah, this is payback, yeah
It’s from way back when niggas had jokes
Now I laugh in a Maybach
I ain’t bragging about what I drive
Let’s just say that
I pull up to the hood and y’all hate that
A night with the papi, Sprite with Bacardi
Fifth in a Wrangler, knife in a party
Goons everywhere, bitches everywhere
You damn right we everywhere, nigga
You slumped at the bar, my team in the cut
Green in my jeans, green in the dutch
She want a apple mar, green in her cup
She’ll be back tomorrow, yep
Ain’t really nothing you can do
Your boy is on fire
I’m turning up the oven and the fuel
Look at you, disgusting with the flu
Sick of me
Rubbing on your stomach like you do
Milk crate posse, slam down copy
Ices for papi, drip down sloppy
Better boy watch me, i’m PR's Rocky
Hooker, ain’t anybody try to stop me
My nigga Victor gon' fuckin' kill
This shit right here (I roll deep like a
Motherfucking Puerto Rican)
Oh you ain't know?
You could leave with half of
Your face with one Ayo (AYO)
We play no games, been that fuego
Bang then we lay low, plane to the island
I’m with Tego ice grill chill out
Melt your whole grill out
Mouth piece spill out, you laying there
Still out waking up the ambulance
Paperwork to fill out
We hop up in them new things that peel out
Ain’t nothing sweet, our bakery is street
Heroes get holes like bagels, we roll deep
It’s straight bread over here, fireworks
Everywhere, you over there, huh?
Fam, you live once, dead
I’m in here going Pernil
That’s one step up from ham
I do it ‘cause, I can, I got that
Live music in my pocket, bands
I roll deep like a motherfucking Puerto Rican
Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico
Puerto Rico
Yep, yep, I do this, fuck up intruders
Pull up to your block in
A putt putt with shooters
I’m hood to the hood power
Salute your boy with a good Yaowa (YAOWA)
Hard man, you let in a dope boy pedaller
Still got work with a chirp on a cellular
Still in the hood, I’m a barber shop regular
Ask about the boy, man, etcetera
My broads is the baddest, horses and carriage
I could walk in with
Something gorgeous from Paris
Back side, yaowa, awesome
Back shots later on, i snag it
Yeah, this is payback, yeah
It’s from way back when niggas had jokes
Now I laugh in a Maybach
I ain’t bragging about what I drive
Let’s just say that
I pull up to the hood and y’all hate that
A night with the papi, Sprite with Bacardi
Fifth in a Wrangler, knife in a party
Goons everywhere, bitches everywhere
You damn right we everywhere, nigga
You slumped at the bar, my team in the cut
Green in my jeans, green in the dutch
She want a apple mar, green in her cup
She’ll be back tomorrow, yep
Ain’t really nothing you can do
Your boy is on fire
I’m turning up the oven and the fuel
Look at you, disgusting with the flu
Sick of me
Rubbing on your stomach like you do
Milk crate posse, slam down copy
Ices for papi, drip down sloppy
Better boy watch me, i’m PR's Rocky
Hooker, ain’t anybody try to stop me