Memphis Bleek - Do My Lyrics
[jay-z]Turn that mother*****er louderIts the roc in this mother*****erBi-otch!Oh yeah, bounce, uh uhbounceYeah, yeah bounce, come onOh come on bounce, come onDo my ladies run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, come on)Or do my thugs run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, come on)[memphis bleek]Do my ladies run itFat asses and flat stomachsThrow a hand in the airIf its the year of the womanOr my dogs run itLet em know that youre still gunninThrow a drink in the airLet em know you still thugginYo I come through, few of my mansScoop you and your friendsYou, you, and you with the timbsIn tight jeans, chinese eyesIndian hair, black girl assLet me pour you a glass of belviTell me all about your pastLet me console your soulWhile I palm your assAnd your man did what?He aint give you?He cheated with herI cant diss dukeI tell you this thoughGet with this dudeIll teach you about doughAnd show you what this do(its a secret society, all we ask is trust)But I dont freeze *****esJust skeeze *****esBreak up happy homesJust seize missesYoull never get her back once you get a yachtHow you love that?How you love that?[jay-z]Do my ladies run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, come on)Or do my thugs run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, come on)[memphis bleek]Do my ladies run itFat asses and flat stomachsThrow a hand in the airIf its the year of the womanOr my dogs run itLet em know that youre still gunninThrow a drink in the airLet em know you still thugginAy yo back woods rollinRap you cant hold emRoc gear matchin crewsBleek is chillin, murda is chillinWhat more can I say?We still killin emBags we still dealin emFour wheels, we wheelin themChicks like Im feelin himYeah ma okayBlack jeans and timberlandsGive them adrenaline rushLadies know the difference between them niggas and usWe the r-o-c and we dont stopThey dont make a gun that we dont popMatter fact they dont make a car that we dont dropThought you knew they dont make jewels that we dont copWhat you knew? you actin like the roc aint hotOr the car that I cop aint missin a topAnd even if they dont make drops that kindI tear da roof off like Im busta rhymes mother*****er[jay-z]Do my ladies run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, come on)Or do my thugs run this mother*****er?(yeah, yeah, yeah)Come on, come on[memphis bleek]Do my ladies run itFat asses and flat stomachsThrow a hand in the airIf its the year of the womanOr my dogs run itLet em know that youre still gunninThrow a drink in the airLet em know you still thuggin[jay-z]Do my ladies run this mother*****er?(okay)Or do my thugs run this mother*****er?(uh-huh, okay, uh-huh)Come on, come onIts the r-o-c, we dont stopIts the r-o-c, we dont stopIts the r-o-c, we dont stopUh memp bleek, the understanding niggasGet your mind right, ha-ha
