Roc-A-Fella Y'all

"**Roc-A-Fella Y'all**" is a song by American rapper Lupe Fiasco, released on July 21, 2023. On a July 17 Instagram livestream, he previewed the official recording alongside "Better Days." Of the former, he stated it would be out "next week." He also explained the meaning behind 'All proceeds to my chain," where literally, the money will go towards the artist's necklace.

The cover artwork shows Fiasco wearing merch for his *Drill Music in Zion* album, which contains the words "Motherland Grand Prix de Afrique" and "Zion Oil," raising awareness of crude oil, the petroleum industry, and its negative impacts in both health and the environment.

## Lyrics

**Lyrics**
[Intro]

*All proceeds to my chain*

Yeah-yeah

Yeah, yeah

Should've never gave them n\*\*\*as no money

We was in the store 'member we ain't want nothin' (Ain't want nothin')

'Cause we was broke, now a n\*\*\*a ain't frontin' no more, oh, no (No more)

Should've never gave them n\*\*\*as no money (No money)

We was in the store 'member we ain't want nothin' (Nah)

'Cause we was broke, now a n\*\*\*a ain't frontin' no more, oh, no (No more)

Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1]

My mentality's a tapestry, ain't it if I can paint it

It would be too heavy to hang it from the nail in the wall

Dangerously danglin'

Sick with the languages speakin' pangolin down at the animal all, oh

He who answered the call, the most cancelled rapper who rappin' never happened to fall

Wanna subdue Lu like Max Verstappen

Take him off the trap and lap him, I see the devil clappin' his claws

But this what happens after applause if rappin' was blacked call this rappin' from the back of a broad

This style of rappin' is called pattern and pause

Still a one-man class action trapped in his cause (Yeah)

[Interlude]

Stay focused, keep grindin'

Follow the mission

Don't stop 'til you get there

When you think you there, keep goin'

Keep grindin', hustle

[Verse 2]

Uh

I'm a different type of n\*\*\*a fulfilled

Say the word, n\*\*\*a is a trigger so chill

I'm like, "Why keep n\*\*\*a concealed?

It's white people still usin' the word n\*\*\*a for real

Never ignorant, genuine genius appeals sincerely hearin' it thrills

Yeah, I'm from a lyrical miracle, biblical guild

A great white clearing his gills the nearest mirror of skill

Somewhere between jazz, J\*\*\*a and drill

Minus all the n\*\*\*as it kills

Right before they finish they wills

A healthy menace told the dentist I eat splenda, spinach and pills for life

Playin' Ur with David Blane on a commercial flight, first class rollin' the dice

This for my chain

All donations are appreciated

I put the pen down but the location was abbreviated

To briefly state it that's briefly stayed with we still apart

But the split was so congenial it's like divorces was mediated, uh

Drifted the genetics 'til it speciated

Put variables in my date set and then I deviated

It's miracles in the date set it's like DBA as TD Jakes without a CPA

I used to CTA it Ferrari from that Harvey from this car sear, can believe he made it

Target hated feelin' like Star of David where they GDK it, uh

Independent thinker

I should CD Babe it, feet covered in Tinkers

Promise to self no longer reference the Matrix and stay away from fake shit

'Cause in a flash they'll turn on the click just like blinkers

These and other hazards are just part of the work

Reverse Aztec put my heart in a verse

The one man half Dash, Carter and Burke

[Chorus]

Roc-A-Fella, y'all

Uh

Yeah

[Verse 3]

Impediments and the random egotistical elephant in the room

Lookin' for somethin' heaven sent, like it's medicine in the moon

Or intelligence in the heaviness of a tune

How much your song weigh? Thirty pounds for every entendre

So the playlist will still be heavy as a spaceship on a spaceship

Even though it's weightless

A bar full of plates so a waitress weightlifts with every single entree

Contray to what the pawn say, swan slay with every convey

If words were rocks, birds in flocks, stop that's not the chess of the experts

That's a straight rookie move

To get close to DOS, I feed 'em bread first

Jaded so denigrated and inundated

With every image that I was finished and in a status of endin' stages

So I insulated into pages liberated my inner sages

Now the minutes from the meetings of my mind with my mind

Look a minister mixed Dennis the menace, made it, baited, beat it, baked it and ate it

Graciously my engineer saved the most sacred of it in avid, moor

I can sell money to the poor

A pyramid to a mummy, they even have to pay attention when they ignore

My compulsive indecision made addition into a chore

Is it two plus two? Just two two's? Or is it four?

If I got a calculator, what's the point of even keepin' score?

That's not allowed when you tested

So I added it all up that they just tryna slow us down like instruments in Texas

All proceeds to my necklace

[Chorus]

Roc-A-Fella, y'all

Roc-A-Fella, y'all

Yeah

(*All proceeds to my chain*)

[Outro]

Should've never gave them n\*\*\*as no money

We was in the store 'member we ain't want nothin'

'Cause we was broke, now a n\*\*\*a ain't frontin' no more

Should've never gave them n\*\*\*as no money

We was in the store 'member we ain't want nothin'

'Cause we was poor, now a n\*\*\*a ain't frontin' no more, oh-oh, yeah

## References

1. ↑ "Lupe Fiasco (@lupefiasco)". *Instagram*. July 17, 2023.