Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Gregory Bufford, George Jr Clinton, Vaughan Mason, Reggie Noble, Garry M Shider, David L Spradley, Robert Telson
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RedmanSlide and Rock On Lyrics:
Yo, this blunt is for all the niggaz that was
In the holdin' pen with me in central booking
Welcome to the system
Yeah, motherfuckers
Coming to you live from Newark, New Jersey
(Hey Redman, would you roll that blunt and get me fucked up?)
Fucked up all night
(All night)
(Hey Redman, would you roll that blunt and get me fucked up?)
Fucked up all night
(All night)
Yeah, coming to you live, straight out of Jersey, motherfucker
Rock on, rock on, yo, here comes that Funkadelic
I come wetter than Purple Rain, I bust brains, the funk doctor
Spock, got the glock, now I'm smokin' out your sess spot
I rock from here to Bedstuy, I hit the spot like XY
Who is that nigga that's comin 'six billion feet
I roll my funk and find tone even smoke up blues with 18th Street
I cut massively with sneaky styles like Dick Dastardly
Look at the letter-coated afro like my man Shaft would be
The new room, crisp like chicken and Chinese food
I'm just like, 'The whispers' here to put you in the mood
(Jumpin' Jersey)
Yeah, you heard me, got more family than the Partridge
Roll the red carpet for Red from here to corner markey
You're tryin' me, I'm a menace of society, right
(Yo, yo, they killed your style)
Yo, yo, I ain't lettin' shit ride
Droppin' the verbs and nouns, antonyms and homonyms
Covering my dick, plus I'm diesel like all of them
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(Somebody, help me)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(You gotta rock on)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(Somebody, help me)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(You gotta rock on)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
My momma used to tell me turn that shit the fuck off
So I had to play like Foxy and get off
(Get off)
My shit was thick, I bought a clip
Then cocked my own grip at honey dips
'Cuz moms made enough loot just to pay the bills with, bitch
Selling bags from uptown
Me and Lester put our money together
Now we got the block locked down, 31 to local A-Train's, Hoboken
I took the back way, New Jersey transit cops were open
I'm hopin' that they don't go inside my boots
'Cuz we had everything from jewelry to Thai-one suits
And Clientel, I'm drinkin' Ballentine L in hell
So Redman rock well before our record sell
Then my moms crib was jacked by the jealous
(And if ya ain't come back)
Is what the base-head used to tell us
(Yo fellaz)
Our whole scheme sinkin' like boats
'Cuz Les mixed biz with pleasure when we shoulda stuck to lactose
But every good thing comes to a end
With no ends on the block, sellin' weed again
My moms tried to make me go to school, I just didn't listen
Got locked up, now I'm all in the system, listen
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(Somebody, help me)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
(You gotta rock on)
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
Rock, rock on, you gotta rock, rock on
Whassup, I tickle your putty-cars with my loonie raps on groovy tracks
I make new jacks catch convulsions like groupie acts
From my city I spread it all like Jiffy
It's a mystery, my spliff be live like 145th be
I mold like clay and roll dice just like Andrew
I stay strapped just like bamboo, my crews got mad handle
Whatever, the weather be, I got mental telepathy
So throw your bombest rapper and watch me intercept MC's
I keep my car underground just like the Lords
Even though I'm known like all the four wheels on the course
So let me pull up to your bumper like Grace Jones
'Cuz my shit be way off the hook like pay phones, ahh
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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