[Intro: DJ Khaled]
It’s the remix!
Ayo Raekwon, we in the jungle with this rock ‘n’ roll shit
I’ma serve the streets with that West Coast Game
I’ma serve the streets with that Pharrell
Shit, I’ma serve the streets with that Busta Rhymes
DJ Khaled
[Chorus: Kobe Honeycutt]
Hey, lil mama, I got some of that Bon Jovi, you know me
How he flying in the air like we ‘Living on a Prayer’, ow
We on the corner serving that Rock ‘n’ Roll, Rock ‘n’ Roll
Rock ‘n’ Roll, posted on the corner with the Rock ‘n’ Roll
Rock ‘n’ Roll
[Verse 1: The Game]
Ayo Chef, let me get my Charles Louboutin on, yeah
Smoking on this Jimi Hendrix, feeling like a rock star
I’m on the block, dawg, leaning on a cop car
Clip the ashes, daydreams of getting knocked off
Most of them niggas be clicking they Tar Heels, Montross
I’m in the Le Montrose, feeling like a mob boss
But I don’t eat spaghetti, nigga, fried wings and hot sauce
Come through the door, get crossed over like Hot Sauce
Warn from the floor, be on the floor with a locked jaw
Told y’all before, man down when them shots off
Why you think I’m leaning on the car? I pay the cops off
Coming at me is like saying toilet paper not soft
Put a hole in one of you rap niggas, not golf
Tell you like ya mama, “I’ll knock your fuckin’ block off”
Rock‘em Sock‘em Robots, you a Waka Flocka knockoff
Say he play the block but can’t get a fuckin’ rock off
Me and Chef, a.k.a. niggas you can’t knock off
It’s the remix!
Ayo Raekwon, we in the jungle with this rock ‘n’ roll shit
I’ma serve the streets with that West Coast Game
I’ma serve the streets with that Pharrell
Shit, I’ma serve the streets with that Busta Rhymes
DJ Khaled
[Chorus: Kobe Honeycutt]
Hey, lil mama, I got some of that Bon Jovi, you know me
How he flying in the air like we ‘Living on a Prayer’, ow
We on the corner serving that Rock ‘n’ Roll, Rock ‘n’ Roll
Rock ‘n’ Roll, posted on the corner with the Rock ‘n’ Roll
Rock ‘n’ Roll
[Verse 1: The Game]
Ayo Chef, let me get my Charles Louboutin on, yeah
Smoking on this Jimi Hendrix, feeling like a rock star
I’m on the block, dawg, leaning on a cop car
Clip the ashes, daydreams of getting knocked off
Most of them niggas be clicking they Tar Heels, Montross
I’m in the Le Montrose, feeling like a mob boss
But I don’t eat spaghetti, nigga, fried wings and hot sauce
Come through the door, get crossed over like Hot Sauce
Warn from the floor, be on the floor with a locked jaw
Told y’all before, man down when them shots off
Why you think I’m leaning on the car? I pay the cops off
Coming at me is like saying toilet paper not soft
Put a hole in one of you rap niggas, not golf
Tell you like ya mama, “I’ll knock your fuckin’ block off”
Rock‘em Sock‘em Robots, you a Waka Flocka knockoff
Say he play the block but can’t get a fuckin’ rock off
Me and Chef, a.k.a. niggas you can’t knock off
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