We Gonna Rock Lyrics by Sauce Money

We Gonna Rock Lyrics

    Never send a boy to do a man's job
    You know?
    I think we got away from what the fuck this is all about
    We forgot - how to spit
    Muthafuckas is makin all these crazy-ass fuckin records
    Stop puttin your dirty laundry out in the street, muthafucka
    Follow me now
    Fuck with me

    [ verse 1 ]
    Sammy sosa slugger, hip-hop nigga, touch em all
    Some cute, but suck em all, i say fuck em all
    Eat a dick too, soloist choose another route
    G.h. form now, go and break my brother out
    Henny out the bottle, nigga, eyes low in the truck
    Nothin but that good smoke, hydro in the dutch
    Ain't no probably, sauce money, fool, got to be
    Chicken eggs grits, california, call it oscar e.
    Everything i spit hot, baby boy, you're kiddin me?
    Hit flex with it, stretch with it, then mr. cee
    Marley marl sunday night, can't forget kid capri
    Hit the turnpike where all my niggas down in philly be
    Just passin through, son, still many guns to cock
    30 miles from the bridge where anyone can cop
    Chillin at my bitch crib, sip plenty rum and scotch
    Put it in the air for them niggas biggie, pun and pac

    [ chorus ]
    Haters frontin in the club
    Real gees show us love
    Bust slugs for my nigga
    (we gonna rock)
    Anywhere we do shows
    Come through, two hoes
    Killers with new flows, playa
    (we gonna rock)
    Even when eyes low from hydro
    Can't another brother cock-block my flow
    (we gonna rock)
    Can't stop our ones
    Can't block our guns
    Get your triggers
    And squeeze for these faculty niggas

    [ verse 2 ]
    Haters hate me cause i'm a big nigga with mass appeal
    They can suck a dick with ghonorrhea and that's for real
    Ain't no secrets, muthafuckas know i might clap the steel
    Be ready any given time, i'm like grab the wheel
    Let the window down slow, kid just bought the farm
    Two chicks in a yugo, damn, it's a false alarm
    Not on this joint, sauce usually calm with the grammar
    But right now i'm like baking soda, armed with a hammer
    Summertime comin, now they wonder what i drive next
    Represent for big niggas, 3-4-5-x
    Wide body jeeps, little dimes puff the herb slow
    Know the drill, bubblegum, rubbers in the 3rd row
    Suv tinted out, frontin on the hands-free
    Real gees happy for me, haters like 'it can't be'
    Fighter and a lover, worst enemy or your brother
    Just don't forget to call me dad too cause i'm a motherfucker

    [ chorus ]

    [ verse 3 ]
    I know bitches who love sauce for the dicko, straight gorilla
    Fatally, more than likely take at least eight to kill a-
    Ddicted to my flow, doggy style ain't the way i make my scrilla
    [name], [name], [name], [name], those my niggas
    Hit the club half-cocked, niggas shoulda knew me better
    Jim star dillinger, that's under my gucci sweater
    Through the crowd thugged out, took my stance and i spit
    Screamed on this one chick like, "bitch, dance to my shit"
    Part the club with elbows, bump a nigga, love that
    Nigga read my eyes and it said 'step the fuck back'
    This gorilla hill shit, we don't give two fucks
    On gorilla hill, kid, you tryin to do too much
    Must've had a sixth sense, how he knew i clutch chrome?
    Probably this a big bitch, front and left his nuts home
    Fuck that weak gotti shit, nigga, let your shotie spit
    Sauce muthafuckin, get your punk-ass body whipped

    [ chorus ] (3x)

    Welcome to gorilla hill

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