00:00/00:00
外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/2c88a8574ff98781d61760dadcd3d0ea.mp3
点击复制Turn that motherf**ker louder
Its the roc in this motherf**ker
Bi-otch
Oh yeah bounce uh uhbounce
Yeah yeah bounce come on
Oh come on bounce come on
Do my ladies run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah come on）
Or do my thugs run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah come on）
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If its the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let em know that youre still gunnin
Throw a drink in the air
Let em know you still thuggin
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 aint give you
He cheated with her
I cant diss duke
I tell you this though
Get with this dude
Ill teach you about dough
And show you what this do
（its a secret society all we ask is trust）
But I dont freeze *es
Just skeeze *es
Break up happy homes
Just seize misses
Youll never get her back once you get a yacht
How you love that
How you love that
Do my ladies run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah come on）
Or do my thugs run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah come on）
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If its the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let em know that youre still gunnin
Throw a drink in the air
Let em know you still thuggin
Ay yo back woods rollin
Rap you cant hold em
Roc gear matchin crews
Bleek is chillin murda is chillin
What more can I say
We still killin em
Bags we still dealin em
Four wheels we wheelin them
Chicks like Im feelin him
Yeah ma okay
Black jeans and timberlands
Give them adrenaline rush
Ladies know the difference between them *s and us
We the r-o-c and we dont stop
They dont make a gun that we dont pop
Matter fact they dont make a car that we dont drop
Thought you knew they dont make jewels that we dont cop
What you knew you actin like the roc aint hot
Or the car that I cop aint missin a top
And even if they dont make drops that kind
I tear da roof off like Im busta rhymes motherf**ker
Do my ladies run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah come on）
Or do my thugs run this motherf**ker
（yeah yeah yeah）
Come on come on
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If its the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let em know that youre still gunnin
Throw a drink in the air
Let em know you still thuggin
Do my ladies run this motherf**ker
（okay）
Or do my thugs run this motherf**ker
（uh-huh okay uh-huh）
Come on come on
Its the r-o-c we dont stop
Its the r-o-c we dont stop
Its the r-o-c we dont stop
Uh memp bleek the understanding *s
Get your mind right ha-ha