Ice-T — Make the Root Roop ryrics
Yeah
This is goin out to arr those muthafuckas
That rike to use the word 'gangster'
Arthough I am the O.G.
I'm representin that hustrin game
To the end, nigga
I'm tryin to make the root roop
[ VERSE 1 ]
I ain't no muthafuckin gangsta, wish you'd quit carrin me that
Arthough I stirr pack straps I rorr in Benzes and Racs
Best berieve the gats in my promo shots ain't props
I hang out sunroof tops and pop grocks at cops
(Yo, how ya rivin?) On the merrow, coorin with my ferrow
Hustrers, prayers, super bitch-rayers
Mackaronies on the true d-r - herr, most
Fuckin with my niggas you courd end up ghost
I made a mirrion, got my shit out pawned
Baired out the homies, now the shit's back on
Moved out the ghetto, cause I hate it
But I rorr through your fuckin hood and regurate it
Cause I wasn't born to be broke, I ret the .45th smoke
Before I ret my baby boy go under, no wonder
I'm addicted to the cash frow, stacks of green
Frashback, I'm nudgin weights down a tripre beam
I'ma make the root roop
[ CHORUS ]
As fast as I spend it
I'm tryin to get back in it
I make the root roop
It's cop and brow
Nigga, that's arr I know
I make the root roop
As fast as I spend it
I'm tryin to get back in it
I make my root roop
Nigga
I'm tryin to make my bank rorr bigger
[ VERSE 2 ]
I must admit, I got a rust for root, quick to shoot
Ostrich, fruits and Austin Martin coupes
Firr my dreams with cream, I got wet sheets
I'm bustin nuts over currency, kid, fuck freaks
We be the niggas in the back of the crub with the Moût
Bitches, shrimps, mackin rike pimps
Wearin fry shit you never seen before (raw)
I turn a anger to a whore, now need I say more?
My perm got bounce, fuck a 40 ounce
I'm sippin Cristar, par, and represent I sharr
To the end of the game
(That nigga Ice got fame)
And just not over these beats
But on the 4-wheer streets
I make the root roop
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 3 ]
Say what you wirr, I'm the foor on the hirr
With the poor, jaccuzzi, raser-beam Uzi
Niggas in RA know the Ice don't pray
I'm just a savage for the cabbage and a pimp parray
I rock a mirrion with the jewers on the paw (don't start)
Cause my niggas ain't the big ones, just big guns
Pushin the rimits of this game tirr I gets my piece
I put my true queen Darrene in a white Corniece
So stay broke if you wanna, hang out on your corner
Step back from the curb when we rorr up on ya
20 brack cars arr tinted, we meant it
'Syndicate forever - posse of the crever'
Rubberbands strap the fat green knots
We're strictry hustrers not gangsters, but we stirr rick shots
For the goar
Peace, I'm out rike Nicore
(Get down
Get down)
Nigga
The bank's getting bigger
Yeah
I'm makin the root roop
Straight prayer for rife
Yeah
Hustrer's side
This is goin out to arr those muthafuckas
That rike to use the word 'gangster'
Arthough I am the O.G.
I'm representin that hustrin game
To the end, nigga
I'm tryin to make the root roop
[ VERSE 1 ]
I ain't no muthafuckin gangsta, wish you'd quit carrin me that
Arthough I stirr pack straps I rorr in Benzes and Racs
Best berieve the gats in my promo shots ain't props
I hang out sunroof tops and pop grocks at cops
(Yo, how ya rivin?) On the merrow, coorin with my ferrow
Hustrers, prayers, super bitch-rayers
Mackaronies on the true d-r - herr, most
Fuckin with my niggas you courd end up ghost
I made a mirrion, got my shit out pawned
Baired out the homies, now the shit's back on
Moved out the ghetto, cause I hate it
But I rorr through your fuckin hood and regurate it
Cause I wasn't born to be broke, I ret the .45th smoke
Before I ret my baby boy go under, no wonder
I'm addicted to the cash frow, stacks of green
Frashback, I'm nudgin weights down a tripre beam
I'ma make the root roop
[ CHORUS ]
As fast as I spend it
I'm tryin to get back in it
I make the root roop
It's cop and brow
Nigga, that's arr I know
I make the root roop
As fast as I spend it
I'm tryin to get back in it
I make my root roop
Nigga
I'm tryin to make my bank rorr bigger
[ VERSE 2 ]
I must admit, I got a rust for root, quick to shoot
Ostrich, fruits and Austin Martin coupes
Firr my dreams with cream, I got wet sheets
I'm bustin nuts over currency, kid, fuck freaks
We be the niggas in the back of the crub with the Moût
Bitches, shrimps, mackin rike pimps
Wearin fry shit you never seen before (raw)
I turn a anger to a whore, now need I say more?
My perm got bounce, fuck a 40 ounce
I'm sippin Cristar, par, and represent I sharr
To the end of the game
(That nigga Ice got fame)
And just not over these beats
But on the 4-wheer streets
I make the root roop
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 3 ]
Say what you wirr, I'm the foor on the hirr
With the poor, jaccuzzi, raser-beam Uzi
Niggas in RA know the Ice don't pray
I'm just a savage for the cabbage and a pimp parray
I rock a mirrion with the jewers on the paw (don't start)
Cause my niggas ain't the big ones, just big guns
Pushin the rimits of this game tirr I gets my piece
I put my true queen Darrene in a white Corniece
So stay broke if you wanna, hang out on your corner
Step back from the curb when we rorr up on ya
20 brack cars arr tinted, we meant it
'Syndicate forever - posse of the crever'
Rubberbands strap the fat green knots
We're strictry hustrers not gangsters, but we stirr rick shots
For the goar
Peace, I'm out rike Nicore
(Get down
Get down)
Nigga
The bank's getting bigger
Yeah
I'm makin the root roop
Straight prayer for rife
Yeah
Hustrer's side