ALL OWNERSHIP OF THIS SONG IS BY ROC-A-FELLA
This is really just for me as I do not want to listen to 9 min outro often but love the song.
LYRICS:
Aight, let's run it, let's run it
Yo fuck you, Kanye, first and foremost
For making me do this shit. Muh'fucker
Had to throw everybody out the motherfucking room
'Cause they don't fucking--
I'd like to propose a toast
I said toast, motherfucker!
And I am
(Here's to the Roc)
And they ask me, they ask me, they ask me, I tell them
(Here's to Roc-A-Fella)
Raise your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and
(Here's to the Roc)
This is the last call for alcohol, for the
(Mr. Rockefeller)
So get your ass up off the wall
The all around the world Digital Underground Pac
The Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer of the Roc
I take my chain, my fifteen seconds of fame
And come back next year with the whole fucking game
Ain't nobody expect Kanye to end up on top
They expected that College Dropout to drop and then flop
Then maybe he stop savin' all the good beats for himself
Roc-A-Fella's only niggas that helped
My money was thinner than Sean Paul's goatee hair
Now Jean Paul Gaultier cologne fill the air, here
They say he bougie, he big-headed
Would you please stop talking about how my dick head is
Flow infectious, give me ten seconds
I'll have a buzz bigger than insects in Texas
It's funny how wasn't nobody interested
'Til the night I almost killed myself in Lexus
Now I am
(Here's to the Roc)
And they ask me, they ask me, they ask me, I tell them
(Here's to Roc-A-Fella)
Raise your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and
(Here's to the Roc)
This is the last call for alcohol, for the
(Mr. Rockefeller)
So get your ass up off the wall
Now was Kanye the most overlooked? Yes sir
Now is Kanye the most overbooked? Yes sir
Though the fans want the feeling of A Tribe Called Quest
But all they got left is this guy called West
That'll take Freeway, throw him on tracks with Mos Def
Call him Kwa-li or Kwe-li, I put him on songs with JAY-Z
I'm the Gap like Banana Republic and Old Navy, and oooh
It come out sweeter than old Sadie
Nice as Bun-B when I met him at the Source awards
Girl he had with him - ass coulda won the horse awards
And I was almost famous, now everybody love Kanye
I'm almost Raymond
Some say he arrogant, can y'all blame him?
It was straight embarrassing how y'all played him
Last year shoppin' my demo, I was tryin' to shine
Every motherfucker told me that I couldn't rhyme
Now I could let these dream killers kill my self-esteem
Or use my arrogance as the steam to power my dreams
I use it as my gas, so they say that I'm gassed
But without it I'd be last, so I ought to laugh
So I don't listen to the suits behind the desk no more
You niggas wear suits 'cause you can't dress no more
You can't say shit to Kanye West no more
I rocked 20,000 people, I was just on tour, nigga
I'm Kon, the Louis Vuitton Don
Bought my mom a purse, now she Louis Vuitton Mom
I ain't play the hand I was dealt, I changed my cards
I prayed to the skies and I changed my stars
I went to the malls and I balled too hard
"Oh my god, is that a black card?"
I turned around and replied, "Why yes
But I prefer the term African American Express"
Brains, power, and muscle
Like Dame, Puffy, and Russell
Your boy back on his hustle
You know what I've been up to
Killin y'all niggas on that lyrical shit
Mayonnaise-colored Benz, I push Miracle Whips
And I am
(Here's to the Roc)
And they ask me, they ask me, they ask me, I tell them
(Here's to Roc-A-Fella)
Raise your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and
(Here's to the Roc)
This is the last call for alcohol, for my niggas
(Mr. Rockefeller)
So get your ass up off the wall