Thanks to dj.flash@pobox.com for these lyrics.



Roc-A-Fella y'all

[Jay] It's the Roc!

Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga

[Jay] R.O., R.O.C. niggaz, R.O.

Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga

[Jay] Hov'! R.O.C. niggaz, R.O., whoo!

Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga

[Jay] It's Hov'! R.O.C. niggaz

Jay-Z..



[Jay-Z]

Come on the track duh duh da-da

With a throwback jersey and a fitted

Might blow a bag of hershey in the sidd-ix

Or might take sips of army with a chidd-ick, I'm so sick widdit

Lampin in the Hamptons, the weekends man

The Stan Smith Adidas and the Campers

Or playin guts on the cruise, Hermes bow shoes

The Izod bucket on I'm so old school

Yellow wrist watch, Gucci flip flops

Six top model chicks, who is this hot?

J-A, ladies help me say it now

Y-Z, mami why you playin with me?

Ride with me, get high as me

It's how it's supposed to be, when you rollin with G's, Hov'!

Back up in this bitch like whoa

Jigga get this whole bitch jumpin like six-fo's



[Chorus]

(Hov'!) He is I, and I am him

(Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!)

Slim with the tilted brim on twenty inch rims

(Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!)

And if y'all got love for me I got love for y'all

(Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!)

And if y'all go to war for me I go to war wit y'all

(Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!)



[Jay-Z]

Hov'! And so I breeze through, jeans is Evisu

She's respondin, top of C. Bronson

We in Luan (whoo!) gettin our groove on

Buyin out the bar, on our way to Spa'

She never seen a hundred on the wrist before

Never seen twenty-two's on the 6 before

I am, killin 'em out there, they needin first aid

Cause the boy got more 6's than first grade

The crib got, killer views and square feet

You have to film MTV Cribs for a week

So, sleep if you need to, mami I will leave you

Right where you stand, nah I don't wanna dance (I'm good)

I just wanna see what's in your Frankie B pants

Waist is low enough to let your waist show

Top like a rock star, I got a fast car

We can cruise the city, doin' above sixty



[Chorus]



[Jay-Z]

He did it again! Haters no like

But they gotta fuck with it cause the flow's so tight

Gnarly dude! I bump Bob Marley dude

All day, like Rastafari's do

Now I'm stuck to the point I could hardly move

You fuckin' up my high, don't bother me dude

But Red Rover, send your hoes over

She can do WHATEVER, sip somethin with soda

She can leave WHENEVER, sip somethin with Hova

We can play HOWEVER, slay bed or sofa

And the prognosis, sex is explosive

Left her with wet bedsheets, nigga I'm focused



[Chorus]



[Jay-Z]

R.O., R.O.C. niggaz..

R.O.C. niggaz

(Roc-A-Fella y'all!)