We Rollin’ Songtext
von LL Cool J

Hahahaha
This is real, baby, this is real!
They love this

Just sit back and relax, Bentley seats in the back
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)
Candy paint on the 'Lac, shoes bigger than Shaq
Chrome beamin', we rollin′ (we rollin′, we rollin')
Picture a scene from "The Mack", picture me on it like that
Quick, get in, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)
Yeah, I rap and I act, God put me where I'm at
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin')


The P-I-M-P, the pockets are filthy
The cars is sick, B, the bars is milky
He hard to kill, G, the God is real deep
The Coupe de Ville leanin′, pinky ring freezin′
Creep with no ceilin', keep the chrome beamin′
Cold with no feelings, rollin', no peelin′
Cruise the track, candy paint on the 'Lac
Shoes bigger than Shaq, lil mama, relax
What he wearin′ on his back is never off the rack

Todd Smith custom, all the ladies lust him
They with him, he crush 'em, we talkin' ′bout a mack
A purebred dog, not one of them alley cats
Thorough to the max, Q-Boro, matter of fact

Ice so sharp, it slice through your cataracts

Hard from the wars, he tough as a battle axe
Don′t hate him 'cause he hot, God put him where he at
For sure

Just sit back and relax, Bentley seats in the back
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)
Candy paint on the 'Lac, shoes bigger than Shaq
Chrome beamin′, we rollin' (we rollin', we rollin′)
Picture a scene from "The Mack", picture me on it like that
Quick, get in, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)
Yeah, I rap and I act, God put me where I'm at
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)


Coolin', got the bottles on chill, the models lookin' ill
V.I.P. locked down, crackin′ them hundred dollar bills
Yankee hat low, Todd Smith and rhinestones
Your chick chose him, let bygones be bygones
All these amateur macks with they eyeballs watery
Choosin′ honeys over money, that's out of order, B
Meanwhile, he gets his statements quarterly
You′re starvin' on the corner, actin′ drunk and disorderly
Relax in the Maybach, gettin' your booze on
Seats is like a couch, get your Tom Cruise on

French pedicure with the Jimmy Choos on
He wanna see more, throw somethin′ smooth on
The modern day Goldie, game better than Kobe
Style doper than codeine, playin' for his own team

When he walk up in the spot, he lookin' so clean
Rubbin′ money in your face like toe cream

Just sit back and relax, Bentley seats in the back
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)
Candy paint on the 'Lac, shoes bigger than Shaq
Chrome beamin′, we rollin' (we rollin′, we rollin')
Picture a scene from "The Mack", picture me on it like that
Quick, get in, we rollin' (we rollin′, we rollin′)
Yeah, I rap and I act, God put me where I'm at
Lil mama, we rollin′ (we rollin', we rollin′)

Yeah, yeah