Who Ya Love
R.O.C Lyrics

Yo Bent, let's get to the club man
Greetings Bent, let us proceed to the club, my dear friend.

R-O-C, if this is what ya want Then put your hands up high and keep em' up My dudes, my dimes then this is what your get All playa, makin' paper, breakin' haters represent So So, let's go, the D to the EF Now put your hands up high and keep em' up Let's drink and smoke and tear the party up Now put your hands up again and tell me who ya love
If you desire the lifestyle of R-O-C, raise your arms and keep them raised. Our associates and attractive females will accompany you while we make money, defeat our enemies and have fun. Come on, let's go, from Detroit to East Flint, raise your hands again and tell me who you love.

Clothes, cash, cars, glass Mary Blige or the cranberry and naj 22 wenches are so often witches A couple of mansions, a couple of Benz's
We own clothes, cash, cars, jewelry, and luxury properties. Would you prefer the music of Mary Blige or Naj's cranberry juice? Many women are deceitful and cannot be trusted. We have acquired multiple mansions and Mercedes-Benz cars.

Flows is endless, dough tremendous No one comprehends is the way I pen this All of my men's is in jeans and Tims's Came to get the club doors off the hinges
My rapping abilities are unlimited, and my wealth is enormous. It is impossible for anyone to fully understand the way I write music. All of my people are wearing jeans and Timberland boots. We came to the club to have a wild and unforgettable time.

Wired right now, turn these lights down The DJ booth's on fire right now Middle of the club with the thugs, I'm iced down Half grape juice, half papaya right now
I am pumped and energetic, so let us lower the lights. The DJ is currently playing excellent music. I am surrounded by tough individuals and am wearing lots of jewelry. I am drinking grape and papaya juice.

All my ladies, let's be swayzie My man got the Bentley, I got the Mercedes So let's just say we, hit 280 And rep for the Bricks cause my hook is crazy
All of my female acquaintances, let us be cool and relaxed. My partner drives a Bentley, and I drive a Mercedes. We should speed down the highway at 280 kilometers per hour, and I will represent our neighborhood, the Bricks.

[Chorus] Say (HIT ME ROC!) All of the women in the club Who love feelin' the villains and thugs Say (HIT ME ROC!)
Chorus. Say (HIT ME ROC!) all women in the club who like bad guys and tough individuals. Say (HIT ME ROC!)

Maybe I will But the dress, heels, head gotta be ill, but still I tear they brain up with hell a game Numb chicks like Novocaine every time I flow a game
Perhaps I will interact with you, but you must wear a stunning dress, high heels, and have a stylish hairstyle. I will entice you with my unique talents and bewilder you. Your minds will be numb, just like taking a dose of Novocaine, every time I rap.

The best that has ever came Remember Mary Blige told you I was everything It's still the same, real-a game, illa chain Used to pump cane up in Jersey, over where Lauryn Hill would hang
I am the best rapper to ever exist. Mary Blige once complimented me, saying that I have all the essential qualities. I still have an exceptional talent and expensive jewelry. I used to sell cocaine in New Jersey, near where Lauryn Hill resided.

But now it's just an overseas villa thing I love to hear my name, ladies would you say again
Nowadays, I live in an overseas villa and life is good. I love it when ladies say my name. Can you repeat it once more, ladies?

[Chorus] Like this, like that, and like this and uh My machine gun funks like Christopher Now let me see y'all jump, bounce, get up Puff something, pop something, slug till ya spit up
Chorus. Like this, like that, and like this and uh... I rap quickly and fiercely like a machine gun similar to Christopher Wallace (Notorious B.I.G.). Let me see everyone jumping and bouncing. Smoke something, drink something, and fight until you get sick.

I'm so lit up Used to have love fuckin' girls in my heart but my chain froze it up You know what's up, 9-7 grid I come through in a crooked letter UV
I am very intoxicated. I used to have love in my heart for women, but my overpriced jewelry has taken over. You know what's going on, this is the 1997 scene. I arrived in a unique car.

Dippin' missin' competitions Only wishin' for the mortician 6-4 sits on hydro suspension (Bounce) Manuscriptin' my intuition (Bounce)
Swerving through, avoiding competitions. All I wish is to be buried. My gigantic car is equipped with hydraulic suspension (Jump around). I am penning down my intuition.

Shine and glitzin' my mind is missin' But any beat chu' find, the rhyme just sits in the loop (Uh huh) And ain't no substitute I'm a fly motherfucker all about the loot, come on
I am dazzled by the shine and glamour around me, causing me to lose sight of things around me. Any beat you may bring, my lyrics will effortlessly suit it (Yes). There is no substitute for me. I am a cool, money-loving individual.

[Chorus] Say (PICK ME ROC!) All of my mommies in the party, movin' they body When you see me at the bar say (PICK ME ROC!) Then show me ya thong, and it's on Come on all my ladies sing along
Chorus. Say (PICK ME ROC!) all of my female friends in the party, dancing. If you meet me at the bar, say (PICK ME ROC!), then show me your thong, and it's game on. All my ladies, join in and sing along.

[Chorus]
Final Chorus.