Rock N Roll (fam-lay) Lyrics - The Neptunes Present Clones

[Verse 1: Fam-Lay] 

Hmmm...yes sirrrrrr 

Rock and roll, man roll and rock 

I got tens, got twentys, got fifty blocks 

I got smoke to buy, coke for sale 

Sold much coke, got coke in jail 

In the white Rolls Royce with my man Pharrell 

This lil' nigga got beats too fresh to be stale 

But I'ma take you back to the early eighties 

When my cousin Stacey had the pearl Mercedes 

My aunt cousin Wack had the black on black 

Ac' coupe Legend with the gold in the back 

I was just a lil' young'n runnin' wild as hell 

Runnin' round wild trynta get that mail 

Lil' shorty dudes trynta learn the grooves 

I was twelve years old brought it to the school 

Cause I was quick to flip, quick to sell that shit 

You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this 

[Hook 1] 

But if you feel me, throw your bows up (Star Track) 

Try to set up shop get glowed up 

Hey, I'm the candyman, I got mo' than frozen cups 

I got your chop top sour diesel roll-ups 

Fam! we can roll up (Star Track) 

But Fam! don't try to roll up (Star Track) 

Don't make me pull these motherfuckin' fo's up 

Cause it's like that 

[Verse 2: Fam-Lay] 

The fiends is dyin', things is lyin' 

Missin' on the streets, so the fiends is still buyin' 

Right on time and money on the mind and 

On them twenty-fo's, them bit-ches straight shinin' 

But y'all niggaz don't know bout this 

Fresh new kicks with the new outfit 

Got the all black top with the black on black 

You ever see me creepin, just back on back 

Cause I got that pump and it is gon' spit 

I ain't no punk and I ain't no snitch 

From a place on Earth called Huntersville 

Where people out there got love for real 

Got love for all who got love for me 

If a coward ever ran then it wasn't me 

I'll be on the curb movin' dubs and d's 

And if you ever bought a dub then it was for me 

I ever get caught then it was to be 

I'ma just make bail by my cousin E 

Back on the Porsche with the mobile phone 

Like eleven in the mornin' them hoes to go home 

Trynta score and get this shit off quick 

You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this 

[Hook 1] 

[Hook 2] 

Aww shit, this is the part when the fight just start 

When the fists get to swingin' and the four-fifths spark 

And then the bitches get to runnin' and the bitch just scream 

And we spin off in Rolls and it's so damn clean 

[Verse 3: Fam-Lay] 

I stand on my block, the cam on the spot 

My hands in my pocket, both hammers is cocked 

Waitin' for a nigga to just act up 

My right hand big six, got my bait back up 

Niggaz lookin' all jealous, lookin' mad as hell 

Actin' like lil' girls, like tattle-tales 

Mad cause my right hand bad as hell 

I would've kept shootin', but I had a sale 

See, I'm a crime boss three sixty-five 

Lookin' for a Nina Ross, she just can ride 

Picked up my cash and slide all sweet 

Nigga tried to snatch ass, knocked his heart off beat 

Nigga talk trash like the shit all sweet 

Wont'cha all take the cash dogg, not off me 

Hustlin's in my veins - you cannot stop it 

Walkin' on the block with life in my pocket 

I'm trynta score and get this shit off quick 

You ain't from the ghetto, y'all don't know bout this 

[Hook 1] 

[Hook 2]