[Intro: Jay-Z, (Beanie Sigel)]
R-O-C
The official remix!
(Roc-A-Fella, muthafucker!)

[Pre-Chorus: Kanye West]
La la la la, wait 'til I get my money right

[Verse 1: Beanie Sigel]
You can't tell me nothing
Gangster? I don't buy it - you can't sell me nothing (Nothing)
I'm everything you thought I wasn't
Now check out how I does it on this K West production (How real is that, n***a?)
All your bullshit, I will flush it
And I got the paper to wipe that ass
Every little song and dance come out, y'all hype that trash (Trash!)
And yo, I'm far from a hater (Uh)
'Cause suckers gotta eat too – get y'all paper
(I ain't mad at cha) I just can't deal with these fake rappers
'Cause most of these n***as wear they boxers backwards
N***as claim king but can't govern they household
Got real n***as doing time from shit they mouth told
Why dick-eating n***as always rap with a mouth full? (It's crazy)
But you know they don't play with me
The realest n***a alive – what can these n***as say to me? Nothing
[Hook: Kanye West, with Jeezy adlibs]
La la la la, wait 'til I get my money right
La la la la, then you can't tell me nothing, right?
Excuse me, was you saying something?
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Ha ha!)
You can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Yeah!)
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing

[Verse 2: Freeway]
I had a dream that Jay and Dame was back together
And in that second, everything was back the same
In reality, your boy went to Mecca, came back
And said that I would never rap again
But I'm back and that's the way the ball bounce
A verse is a ounce, a album's a brick – now it's time for trafficking
Y'all lame, I am the product, hotter than lava
They wonder "How this Roc-A-Fella package came?"
First you take a brick of Jay, a brick of 'Ye
Couple quarters of Freeway, an ounce of Beans
Then you kill 'em with the flow
We the reales – even Dontrelle Willis couldn't out the team
Yeah! We speak the truth and they believe us
Tell FEMA even Hurricane Katrina couldn't out the flames
Roc-A-Fella here to stay, we airing out y'all lames
'Free At Last' on the way, so clear 'em out my lane – yeah!
[Hook: Kanye West, with Jeezy adlibs]
La la la la, wait 'til I get my money right
La la la la, then you can't tell me nothing, right?
Excuse me, was you saying something?
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Ha ha!)
You can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Yeah!)
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing

[Verse 3: Kanye West, Young Jeezy]
Yeah, homie, this a theme song
First I get my money right, then I get my team on
If I always prayed to have gleam on
Three hundred dollar jeans on, do that mean I dream wrong?
And I was high as a Learjet
Fly as the insect, even though we in debt
And it don't matter if I get her number, 'cause –
When I get my money right, she gon' come running
And I be good, like God with a extra "o"
God knows that my check needs some extra O's
And you know that you need to bring some extra [--]s
Not in jogging pants, either – tell 'em wear some sexy clothes
Man, my game so professional, and my chain so fresh, they go... (Ohhh-oh-oh!)
"But after the fame, did you gain anything?"
"Damn, 'Ye, would you change anything?"
Well – If I had a billion dollars... (Yeeeeahhh!)
I'd cop more pink Polos and pop those collars
Misery love company, her nickname Sorrow
My Benz need company, her nickname Tahoe
"Wait 'til I get my money" everybody motto
So I'mma need a "bravo" for everything that I wrote
Yeah – hey, mama, they can't hate 'em
'Cause after all of the drama, K slayed 'em
[Hook: Kanye West, with Jeezy adlibs]
La la la la, wait 'til I get my money right
La la la la, then you can't tell me nothing, right?
Excuse me, was you saying something?
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Ha ha!)
You can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Yeah!)
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing

[Verse 4: Uncle Murda]
Listen – I ain't worried 'bout shit (Nothing!)
It's a Roc-A-Fella/GMG invasion, bitch
You hear them n***as talking 'bout me? Ain't that some shit?
These n***as is like bitches – they all on my dick
They don't want no real G to get in position (They don't!)
I opened up the door so all my real n***as could get in (Go 'head!)
Roc-A-Fella, Def Jam, GMG – it's on (It's on!)
Uncle Murda coming for the motherfucking throne
Listen, you could call me the king (The king!)
Of New York – you can't front, I'm doing my thing
If it wasn't for the chronic and these bad-ass ho's
I'd be shooting motherfuckers everywhere I go (No!)
Ohh, but the head I be getting got me chilling
Got a n***a like, "let me focus on these millions" (1 million, 2 million...)
Right?
It got me not thinking 'bout these lames
They don't really want no beef, they ain't life-threatening (They don't want no beef!)
I'm puffing Purple Haze with that Sour Diesel
Can't forget that Kush – I'm as high as a eagle
And just 'cause I'm high off that marijuana
Don't mean I don't see them n***as creeping around the corner
They goners!

[Hook: Kanye West, with Jeezy adlibs]
La la la la, wait 'til I get my money right
La la la la, then you can't tell me nothing, right?
Excuse me, was you saying something?
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Ha ha!)
You can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Yeah!)
Uh-uh, you can't tell me nothing

[Outro: Uncle Murda]
Listen – I ain't worried 'bout shit (Nothing!)
It's a Roc-A-Fella/GMG invasion, bitch
You hear them n***as talking 'bout me? Ain't that some shit?
These n***as is like bitches – they all on my dick