Luyện nghe bài hát Do My

Turn that motherfucker
It's the Roc in motherfucker, biotch
Oh yeah, bounce, uh uh,
Yeah, yeah bounce, on
Oh come, on bounce, on

Do my run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, on
Or do my run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know you're still gunnin'
Throw a in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Yo I through, few of my man's
you and your friends
You, you, and you the Timbs
In tight jeans, Chinese

Indian hair, girl ass
Let me you a glass of Belvi
Tell me all about your
Let me console your soul while I palm ass

And your man did He ain't give you?
He cheated her, I can't diss duke
I tell you this though get this dude
I'll teach you about dough and show you what do

It's a secret society, all we ask is trust but I freeze bitches
Just skeeze break up happy homes
Just seize you'll never get her back once you get a yacht
How you love How you love that?

Do my ladies run motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, on
Or do my thugs run this
Yeah, yeah, on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if the year of the woman
Or my run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Ay, yo woods rollin', rap you can't hold 'em
ROC gear crews Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'
What more can I say? We killin' 'em
Bags we still dealin' 'em, four wheels, we them

like I'm feelin' him, yeah ma okay
Black jeans and Timberlands, give them adrenaline
Ladies the difference between them niggas and us
We the and we don't stop
They don't make a gun we don't pop

Matter fact they make a car that we don't drop
you knew they don't make jewels that we don't cop
What you knew? You like the ROC ain't hot
Or the car that I cop ain't a top

And even if they don't drops that kind
I da roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes motherfucker

Do my ladies run motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, on
Or do my run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on

Do my run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still

Do my ladies run motherfucker?

Or do my thugs run this
Uh-huh, okay,
on, come on

It's the R O C, we don't
R O C, we don't
R O C, we stop
Uh Bleek, the understanding niggas
Get mind right, ha ha