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    M.O.P. / Lyrics

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    "Roll Call" Lyrics


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    In the year 2000...
    {M-O-P} still bangin
    {Firing Squad!}
    {The last generation...}
    Hey, hey, hey, hey
    All right let me brake it down one for time for you
    You motherfuckers
    Yo Primo hold me down son, cuz we ain't playin no motherfuckin games

    [Lil' Fame]
    Fuck the East Coast, this is N.Y., N.Y.
    N-I-N-E, make niggas M-I-A
    And I spray a, it's Fizzy Womack truck
    Bitch don't get in my way
    Fuck the jail faces, I leave your body for the homicide to trace
    Right along with the shell casings
    Holler if you hear me
    I turn your head into a skeleton skull
    And leave it hollow if you're near me
    I keep it funky, understand me son
    I rock my Timb's untied, I don't plan to run
    Niggas see Lil' Fame creep thru the back street
    With my aluminum ass whoopa in the back-seat
    What the fuck is this? Your Van Damme flick, that's cute
    But I'm hear to fuck up your day do
    Yes (yes) yes (yes) yo
    I step to my backwood to brown face and start clippin

    [Chorus: M.O.P. & Teflon]
    International, bell ringer, ruckus bringer
    Downtown swinga, exercising my index finger
    We here with the whole squad, First Family empire
    Fizzy Womack (clack-clack) reportin for Roll Call
    International, bell ringer, ruckus bringer
    Downtown swinga, exercising my index finger
    We here with the whole squad, First Family empire
    Bert Dog (Bucka-Blaow) reportin for Roll Call

    [Billy Danze]
    Yo, what if I leave you, will you stand?
    B-I-Double L-Y-D-A-N-Z-E (Danze)
    Back with a vengeance, listen Mr. Simmer
    Before I throw copper tops through the back of your skimmer
    Y'all niggas remember, 1-9-9-3 (M-O-P) what it's goin be
    Just make it loud and clear
    Come here nigga, I can't hear nigga
    I'm deaf in one ear nigga (yeah nigga)
    You cowards are pathetic, if you wonderin if I'm sympathetic
    Don't bet it, you should give me a little credit
    I grew up where it's equivalent to none (none)
    Wit blood in my palm (palm), I walk wit my arms (arms)
    Hollerin' marksmen (uh-huh), in the dark and the punks sparkin & barkin
    At ease soldier, it's the untouchable type, that you like
    We burn pipes, it's over


    [Lil' Fame]
    I rip ya body on a Nakamichi system
    Nigga feel me, I want my goons
    Straight bumpin the tunes of Makaveli
    Headed to Queens kid, bumpin some mean shit
    Bumps thumps on the side of me, smokin some green shit
    (First Faaaaaaam) Feel the premonition son
    We heavy metal, what's your love? (Ghetto prisoners)
    Racka (bung-bung) Racka (bung-bung) rrrrrrrrrrrrracka, motherfucker

    [Billy Danze]
    Aiyo we live by the code of the streets
    Move wit our peeps
    Since it's hard to eat, we hardly sleep
    I put my life on the line every step of the way
    It's for a good cause (for you and yours) of course
    Okay, now that we establish that
    Nigga where the fuck that money at
    I know you got it, and I want it Jack
    Just give me half of that
    Take the other half and get yourself another pack
    And I'll be back for that

    This song was submitted on October 28th, 2004 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd..
    Written by Jamal Gerard Grinnage, L. Hancock, G Hawkins, L Lovett, Christopher E Martin, Eric Murry, P Stubblefield, W Winston.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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