The ROC (Just Fire)

[Produced by Just Blaze]

[Intro: Cam'ron]

I wanna welcome you to extravaganza

Something incredible that's about to take place

World renowned

Roc-A-Fella, holler

[Break: Memphis Bleek]

Yeah, yeah, niggas

Just Blaze in this shit, ya heard? (It's your main man, I'm back, niggas)

Holler (Yo, yo)

[Verse 1: Memphis Bleek]

My break, I'm fresh off it

I never change, I'm stuck in these ways, Nike Airs, sweats and Taurus (Huh?)

But I'ma do it for my enemies

They wanna end my chill, wanna see what that villa be

Now, what that sound like?

Plus, they know what a clip get down like

Turn bags from bladders, legs to wheels, pain and pills

'Cause you fucking with a nigga that'll jump out, wave the steel

I live this way, it's real, dog, it's no joke

Blow smoke in your bitch face, piss on your wheels

Slap your custies, clap your worker, dead the strip

Stick your connect, yap your bitch

So let it be known, I'm back on my grizzly

The sergeant, the cap, the MAC holds sixty

For rookies and vets, I'll bang 'til it click (Click)

So run and tell your dude that the Ruger come with two clips, dog

M-Easy, won't leave, my hood need me

Pop for sheezy, who don't believe me?

We all criminals, but live like a diplomat

We get low, when the dough low, get it back

[Verse 2: Beanie Sigel & Cam'ron]

Here is something you can't understand

How I could just kill a man for Killa Cam

Me and my Roc killer fam, top billers, man (Man)

We run the spots, drop ceilings, fam (Fam)

Hit the wall, drop ceiling fans (Uh)

Listen, boy, man, I show you how to fill a van up with killers, man

And line the trunk, keep a stash box for the nine and the pump

The coach walk you through and he grind you up

What you want, the dope or the weed?

How you wan' package it, in the cap or the bag?

How you want me packing, with the MAC or the mag?

Yeah, that Bent' get back, but listen, scrap, act real fast

And keep a wack that'll gag your back

Block style from your swagger, your swacks

It's the Broad Street Bully, bitch

Bully niggas on the broadest streets

I house niggas on the narrowest block

Know my rules when the barrel get hot

When the gun blows, and the shots fall, and the smoke clear

Man, I be hearin' you were murdered (You ain't here)

Nobody hit up in the cross 'cause I'm observin' (You ain't here)

Nobody be missin' your loss 'cause you deserved it

South Philly niggas kill at will

I keep my MAC-milli chilly chill (Uh)

On the really real 'fore I make you niggas feel this steel (Killa, Killa)

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]

Go 'head, stupid niggas, go fuck with them chicks (Yeah)

I'm the third little piggy, I'ma fuck with them bricks (Bricks)

Better yet, the bakery, I got pies and cakes (Cakes)

Nigga think doublin' is turnin' five to eight

I turn eight to twenty, twenty to a hundred, hundred to thousand

That to a hundred thousand (Thousand)

In front of housin' (Housin')

Closed the mall down, dog, no one's allowed in (Allowed in)

I'm coppin' everything, I'm done with browsin' (Give me that)

It's the top don, Glock palm, dot com

Get your shit rocked, mon, like Hasim Rahman (Rahman)

And I'm extra scary

CEOs, all the frontin' ain't necessary (Why?)

I fuck your secretaries

All for information, it ain't necessary (Nah, mon)

They in love like the 14th of February (Huh)

Play 'em like April 1st right before I slide off (Off)

It could be March 2nd, sound like July 4th (Blatt)

Halloween or Memorial Day

At your memorial be one year from today (Today)

All y'all think it's peace and peachy

I leave you reesy piecy

All my bitches rock Christian Dior, BCBG (Uh)

'Round phony niggas, get the heebie-jeebies

Hungry hoes say, "Killa, feed me, feed me"

Calm down, ma, easy, easy (Easy)

Talk greazy, please me, get my man Weezy

Still rock Ellesses to squeeze, appease me

He ain't no tease, but measly

Not Doggy's Angels, Killa, please believe me, uh

[Outro: Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek & Cam'ron]

You're now rollin' with them thugs from the R-O-C

Niggas wanna despise the team (Roc-A-Fella)

When shit goes down, you know who's doin' the poppin'

Killa

Si-Siegel-Siegel

M Bleek

Fuck those who disagree (Yeah), my bullets, you get 'em free

Roc in this mother-mother-motherfucker