What They Gonna Do, Part 2 Songtext
von JAY‐Z

Oh yeah, uh-oh
Y′all know who it is (He's back)
Young!

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me (Woo), just grind to the baseline (Come on)
- don′t be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, stick out her backside

Now what the - they gon' do with me?
Got money, got broads, got a crew with me
Real as banana clips, I got a zoo with me
Get down or lay down, -, to shoot with me
Now how the fuck they gon' deal with me?
I ain′t going nowhere, they gotta deal with me
Got the whole BK ready to kill with me
You scared, mother-? Keep it real with me, keep it real with me

Now what the fuck they gon′ say to me?
Got to clap, ya mean? All day with me, clap, ya mean?
Don't play with me, clap, ya mean?
Stay with me, don′t lose me, y'all


And please don′t confuse me with dog, I'm different
I bought it back for a living
Thirty-three O′s on a - back like Pippen
Three she can keep for herself and distribute

Thirty-six O's and a Ki', you do the addition
Before Mitchell and Ness did it
I was moving birds like a Oriole fitted
I′m Cal Ripken Jr. let′s get it

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline
Homie, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her backside

If you with us, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline
Homie, don′t be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, stick out her backside

Mami, what they gon' say to you?
Got your hair did and your favorite shoes
Tell ′em don't play with you, get ′em away from you
You need a baller like I, call 'em like I
See 'em like, "Nah"


Move over, y′all amateurs
No, you not balling, that′s Pro-Am -
Oh, stop calling, that's ho-man -
Stop falling asleep, that′s old man -

I stand up in it like a champ up in it
Be up in it so long, get my calls transferred in it
No more minute man in it
Get my Sound Scan, BDS, and Marketing plans in it

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline
Homie, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her backside

If you with us, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline (Line)
Homie, don′t be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, stick out her backside (What they gon' do?)

You got starch in your flow, I flow too many ways
Got a arch in my flow, all sorts of flow
Rembrandt, Rilke, I am art with the flow
Even if I′m guilty, you gotta pardon the flow

- takin' it lightly, had to darken the flow
Way I put it together, tear 'em apart with the flow
I′m too smart with the flow, you just started to flow
Stop it youngin, you 106th & Park with the flow

I am pro, as you see, I′m off the charts with the flow
Actually, I'm number one on the charts with the flow
In some places they say this, I am God with the flow
Like my office, but they′re biased, too involved with the flow
Although I am the youth spirit, I am y'all with the flow
Trouble Man, dare I say, I am Mar with the flow
I come up hard but I evolve with the flow
Crossover, slam dunk, Rucker Park with the flow, Young -

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline
Homie, don′t be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her backside

If you with us, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with us, just grind to the baseline
Homie, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, stick out her backside

Whooo! Whooo!

Memph Bleek always - that la la la
Beanie Sigel always - that la la la
Neptune′s tracks smoke like la la la
It's the Roc, baby; sing our lullaby (C'mon)
Excuse me miss, I′m the shit
You should come hang with me, basically
Hold up -- skip all the singing, let′s get right tonight, mami

I know my English ain't as modest as you like
But come get some, you little bums
I take the cake from under the baker′s thumb
I bake the cake and two it up from one
Then I moved the weight like I'm Oprah, son
Uhh, I show you how to do this son
Young don′t mess with chicks in Burberry patterns
Fake Manolo boots straight from Steve Madden

He patterns his-self, the rap JFK
You wanna pass for my Jacqueline Onassis, then
Hop ya - out that S-Class
Lay back in the Maybach, roll the best grass, I ask

Have you in your long-legged life
Ever seen a watch surrounded by this much pink ice?
Look but don't touch, - think twice
′Cause the gat that I clutch got a little red light
Need a light?

(To - that la la la)
Beanie Sigel always - that la la la
Memph Bleek always - that la la la
It's the Roc, mami; sing our lullaby
C'mon
Excuse me miss, I′m the -
You should come hang with me, basically
Hold up - skip all the singing, let′s get right tonight, mami

We got bottles full of Arme, mamis in Manolo
Bags by Chanel or Louis Vuitton logos
All attracted to HOV because they know dough
When they see him, whips be European

If you're a ten chances you′re with him
If you're a five you know you riding with them
Sick with the pen, - no physician in the world could fix him
No prescription you can prescribe to subside his affliction

He′s not a sane man, he's more like Rain Man, twitching
You can′t rain dance on his picnic
No Haitian voodoo, no headless chickens
Can dead his sickness, no Ouija board

You can't see me, dog; nigga, ya CB4
This ain't Chris Rock, - it′s the Roc, -
And I′m the franchise like a Houston Rocket
Yao Ming?

Still - that la la la
Memph Bleek still - that la la la
Beanie Sigel, Desert Eagle the .45
It's the Roc baby, sing our lullaby
C′mon
Excuse me miss, I'm the -
You should come hang with me, basically
Hold up - skip all the singing, let′s get right tonight, mami

Forget English, talk body language
I be all over mamis like body paint is
Pink diamond necklace, strawberry wrist
Please excuse yourself, you're very sick

Don′t confuse me with Marbury out this -
Run up on me at the light, you could lose your life
- must be - they la la la with crack-
Forty-five - choke off that

Let's get back to the music, I ain't with all that
Plus the Feds tapping my music - y′all get all that?
I′m the public industry #1
Public industry #2 is my whole crew (R.O.C.!)
Now I ain't down with who like me or who like you
That′s gay, I ain't into liking dudes no way
But get a pen, I can tell you pricks my plans for the future
I never make the news again, my man′ll shoot ya

As we - that la la la
Memph Bleek still - that la la la
Beanie Sigel, Desert Eagle the 45
It's the Roc, - sing our lullaby
C′mon
Excuse me miss, I'm the -
You should come hang with me, basically
Whoa! Skip all the singing let's get right tonight, mami

Do you want me to do it?

Swizzy... Beatz

A′yo I cannot (STOP), I will not (STOP)
As we proceed

Young HOV got the block on smash
Put the gun to the back and hop on some -
- fresh-dressed and stay poppin′ tags
Put the Ewings on the truck 'for I drop the rag

- want to bring up the topic of my past
It′s legendary in the hood how I got my cash
I'm legendary in the hood, so I got the mag
And I′ve never been a fronter, so I've got to blast
Will I flash... not
As I′m not playing with you motherfuckers the laughter stops
When your casket drops
You bastards not gon' assassinate the name I got
Ya'll don′t hear me though

Young HOV got the block on smash
And everybody and their momma want to stop my cash
Everybody want drama with the top of the brass
′Til I come through hop out the cap
1-8-7 they ass

(STOP) somebody gon' (DROP)
Oh, oh, y′all don't hear me though

I cannot (STOP), I will not (STOP)
As we proceed

Young HOV got the game in a frenzy
Twenty million sold all independently
So when you mention me
Make sure you got together your similes

Like he′s the game's J.F. Kennedy
Uhh, I started out I ain′t have no chimney
My ma was Santa Claus, well at least she pretended to be
'Til one night, well that's if memory serves me correct I caught her under the Christmas tree

Young HOV ain′t have no pop′s
Thank God man I had the block
Ya'll don′t hear me though
You young - got the game all wrong

This is my life man this ain't no song (This ain′t no song)
You ain't livin′ your rhymes out, you live at your mom's house
In that tight - room, pullin' the cars out
And the mirror pointin′ at your reflection, killing yourself

You American Pie, stop feeling yourself
- you just a worker, go deal yourself
Stop being a server, get a meal yourself
Where your heart at, all that yick-yack, ain′t nobody scared of y'all gats
We got bigger ones
I mean - done shot at me shivering
They were so scared they ain′t hit me once
Young HOV 'bout to go to the range
′Bout to work on perfecting my aim
Y'all don′t hear me though

(Stop)
I cannot (Stop)
Uh, uh, y'all don't hear me though
I cannot (Stop)
I will not (Stop)
As we proceed