Joell Ortiz - Roll Deep

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Joell Ortiz - Roll Deep was added to the Free2Music database on January 17, 2019. Published the day it was watched 413 times since. Other information about free music is below.

Music Information




Joell Ortiz

Lyrics Title

Roll Deep




Hip-Hop Rap


Yeah, that's it, you found it
My nigga Victor gon' fuckin' kill this shit right here
(I roll deep like a motherfucking Puerto Rican)

Oh you ain't know?
You could leave with half of your face with one Ayo (AYO!)
We play no games, been that fuego
Bang then we lay low, plane to the island, I’m with Tego
Ice grill chill out, melt your whole grill out
Mouth piece spill out, you laying there, still out
Waking up the ambulance, paperwork to fill out
We hop up in them new things that peel out
Ain’t nothing sweet, our bakery is street
Heroes get holes like bagels, we roll deep
It’s straight bread over here, fireworks everywhere, you over there, huh?
Fam, you live once, dead, I’m in here going Pernil
That’s one step up from ham
I do it ‘cause I can, I got that live music in my pocket, bands

I roll deep like a motherfucking Puerto Rican
Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico, Puerto Rico

Yep, yep, I do this, fuck up intruders
Pull up to your block in a putt putt with shooters
I’m hood to the hood power, salute your boy with a good Yaowa (YAOWA)
Hard man, you let in a dope boy pedaller
Still got work with a chirp on a cellular
Still in the hood, I’m a barber shop regular
Ask about the boy, man, etcetera
My broads is the baddest, horses and carriage
I could walk in with something gorgeous from Paris
Back side, yaowa, awesome … back shots later on, I snag it
Yeah, this is payback, yeah, it’s from way back
When niggas had jokes, now I laugh in a Maybach
I ain’t bragging about what I drive, let’s just say that
I pull up to the hood and y’all hate that

A night with the papi, Sprite with Bacardi
Fifth in a Wrangler, knife in a party
Goons everywhere, bitches everywhere
You damn right we everywhere, nigga
You slumped at the bar, my team in the cut
Green in my jeans, green in the dutch
She want a apple mar, green in her cup
She’ll be back tomorrow, yep
Ain’t really nothing you can do
Your boy is on fire, I’m turning up the oven and the fuel
Look at you, disgusting with the flu
Sick of me, rubbing on your stomach like you do
Milk crate posse, slam down copy
Ices for papi, drip down sloppy, better boy watch me, I’m PR's Rocky
Hooker, ain’t anybody try to stop me
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