Rock On
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Hey love, you got it goin' on.
I watched you for years,
Watch the bra size bloss.
Shalont stay in ya ears.
Make me want to sex you, raw.
The thought alone make my dick draw.
Spit a ball in your pregnature.
Quit your night job, sounds good.
But the age thing got me shook.
Tell you what, let's hit the mall.
We'll blow them condoms in your pocketbook,
Alleviate the game girl.
Your world don't stop.
Come this time next week.
I'll have that cat on lock, rock on.

When you're walking down the street,
With your casual wear.
Rings on every single finger,
With your braided up hair.
Got your tatoo with your kid's name,
And your anklet on, too.
What's the Next men gotta do,
To get next to you? Rock on.

Rock on wit' your bad self. (Rock on.)
Go 'head wit' your bad self. (Rock on.)
I like the way ya swing it. (Rock on.)
Oh, girl, you got me thinkin'. (Rock on.)
Rock on wit' your bad self. (Rock on.)
Go 'head wit' your bad self. (Rock on.)
Baby, rock on, and on, and on.

Smooth skin, hair done, nails too.
Juicy lips, phat hips, size five shoes.
Girl, I'm feeling you.
Two kids, nice crib, always clean.
Put on Next when we flex, how you scream.
It's so good to me, yeah.

Oh, let me show you how I like your style.
I'm crazy about you,
So let me freak you now, oh.

I see you like the game of hard ball.
Refuse to choose, Shalont rules, baby girl.
Third leg gong on the shack shoes;
You all laugh.
Cute face, breasts the bomb.
Slum busts, blubber like Louis's Armstrong.
Heard it from the grape'
Besides, you the grape that they like.
Flirtin', mini skirtin' in your white Benz as buck.
I'll shoot you up plus knock you down.
And on the same note,
It ain't over till I stop or get in my last stroak,
Rock on.


Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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