[Intro: JAY-Z]

Turn that motherfucker louder

It's the Roc in this motherfucker (Biatch), oh, yeah

Bounce (Uh-uh, yeah), bounce (Uh, oh, yeah, uh-huh, yeah)

Bounce (Come on), oh (Come on), yeah

Bounce (Yeah), bounce (Come on)

[Pre-Chorus: Jay-Z]

Do my ladies run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, come on)

Or do my thugs run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, come on)

[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]

Do my ladies run it? Fat asses and flat stomachs

Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman

Or my dogs run it? Let 'em know that you still gunnin'

Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

[Verse 1: Memphis Bleek & JAY-Z]

Yo, I come through, few of my mans, scoop you and your friends

You, you, and you with the Timbs

In tight jeans, Chinese eyes, Indian hair

Black girl ass, let me pour you a glass

Of Belvi, tell me all about your past

Let me console your soul while I palm your ass

And your man did what? He ain't give you?

He cheated with her? I can't diss duke

I tell you this, though, get with this dude

I'll teach you about dough, and show you what this do

It's a secret society, all we ask is trust

But I don't freeze wristses, I just skeeze bitches

Break up happy homes, just seize missus

You'll never get her back, once you get a yap

How you love that?

How you love that?

[Pre-Chorus: JAY-Z]

Do my ladies run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, come on)

Or do my thugs run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, come on)

[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]

Do my ladies run it? Fat asses and flat stomachs

Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman

Or my dogs run it? Let 'em know that you still gunnin'

Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

[Verse 2: Memphis Bleek]

Ayo, Backwoods rollin', rap, you can't hold 'em

Roc gear matchin', crusin' through Manhattan

Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'

What more can I say? We still killin' 'em

Packs, we still dealin' 'em, four wheels, we wheelin' 'em

Chicks like, "I'm feelin' him", yeah, ma, okay

Black jeans and Timberlands give 'em adrenaline rush

Ladies know the difference between them niggas and us

We the R-O-C and we don't stop

They don't make a gun that we don't pop

Matter fact, they don't make a car that we don't drop

Thought you knew, they don't make jewels that we don't cop

What, you new? You actin' like the Roc ain't hot

Or the car that I cop ain't missin' a top

And even if they don't make drops that kind

I tear the roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes, motherfucker

[Pre-Chorus: JAY-Z]

Do my ladies run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, come on)

Or do my thugs run this motherfucker? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]

Do my ladies run it? Fat asses and flat stomachs

Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman

Or my dogs run it? Let 'em know that you still gunnin'

Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

[Post-Chorus: JAY-Z]

Do my ladies run this motherfucker? (Uh-huh, uh-huh, okay)

Or do my thugs run this motherfucker? (Uh-huh, okay, uh-huh)

[Outro: JAY-Z]

It's the R-O-C, we don't stop

It's the R-O-C, we don't stop

R-O-C, we don't stop

Uh, Memph' Bleek, The Understanding, niggas

Get your mind right, haha, haha (Woo)