[Chorus:] R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit. Memphis Bleek, we runnin' this rap shit. B. Mac, we runnin' this rap shit. Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit. O & Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit. Chris & Neef, we runnin' this rap shit.
[Verse 1:] The takeover, the break's over, nigga, God MC, me, Jay-Hova. Hey, lil soldier, you ain't ready for war, R.O.C. too strong for y'all. It's like bringin' a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test, Your chest in the line of fire with your thin-ass vest, You bringin' them boys to men, how them boys gonna win? This is grown man B.I., get you rolled into triage, biatch! Your reach ain't long enough, dunny, Your peeps ain't strong enough, fucka! Roc-a-Fella is the army, better yet the navy, Niggas'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady. We bring knife to fistfight, kill your drama, We kill you, mothafuckin' ants, with a sledgehammer, Don't let me do it to you, dunny, ‘cause I overdo it, So you won't confuse it with ‘just rap music'.
[Chorus:] R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit. M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit. The Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit. Get zipped up in plastic when it happens, that's it. Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit. O & Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit. Chris & Neef, we runnin' this rap shit. Watch out!!! We run New York!
[Verse 2:] I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews, You little fuck, I got money stacks bigger than you. When I was pushin' weight, back in '88, You was a ballerina, I got the pictures, I seen ya. Then you dropped ‘Shook Ones', switched your demeanor, Well, we don't believe you, you need more people. Roc-a-Fella, students of the game, we passed the class ‘cause Nobody can read you dudes like we do. Don't let ‘em gas you, like, ‘Jigga is ass and won't clap you'. Trust me on this one, I'll detach you, Mind from spirit, body from soul, They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole. No, you're not on my level, get your brakes tweaked, I sold what your whole album sold in my first week, You guys, don't want it with Hov, Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov, no!
[Chorus:] R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit. B. Sigel, we runnin' this rap shit. M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit. Get zipped up in plastic when it happens, that's it. O & Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit. Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit. Chris & Neef, we runnin' this rap shit. Watch out!!! We run New York!
[Verse 3:] I know you missin' Nas all the Fame! But along with celebrity comes about seventy shots to your frame, nigga. You a Lame! You's the fag model for Karl Kani, Esco ads, Went from Nasty Nas to Esco's trash, Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage, Fell from top 10 to not mentioned at all, To your bodyguard's ‘Oochie Wally's' verse better than yours. Matter of fact, you had the worst flow on the whole fuckin' song, But I know, the sun don't shine, then son don't shine. That's why your Lame! Career's come to an end, It's only so long fake thugs can pretend. Nigga, you ain't live it, You witnessed it from your folks' pad, You scribbled it in your notepad and created your life, I showed you your first Tec, on tour with Large Professor, Then I heard your album about your Tec on the dresser. So, yeah, I sampled your voice, you was usin' it wrong, You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song, And you ain't get a coin, nigga, you was getting fucked then, I know who I paid, God, Serchlite publishing. Use your Brain! You said you've been in this ten, I've been in it five, smarten up, Nas! Four albums in ten years, nigga? I could divide. That's one every... let's say two, Two of them shits was due, One was nah, the other was ‘Illmatic', That's a one hot album every ten year average, And that's so Lame! Nigga, switch up your flow your shit is garbage, What you tryin' kick, knowledge? You niggas gon' learn to respect the king, Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen. Because you-know-who did you-know-what with you-know-who, But let's keep that between me and you for now.
[Chorus:] R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit. M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit. The Broadstreet Bully, we runnin' this rap shit. Get zipped up in plastic when it happens, that's it. Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit. O & Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit. Chris & Neef, we runnin' this rap shit. Watch out!!! We run New York!
[Verse 4:] A wise man told me don't argue with fools ‘Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who, So stop with that childish shit, nigga, I'm grown, Please, leave it alone, don't throw rocks at the throne. Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you, I don't know why your advisers ain't forewarn you, ‘Please, not Jay, he's not for play!' I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin' and gimmicks, I will end it, all that yappin' be finished. You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep, Don't make me expose you to them folks that don't know you, Nigga, I know you well, all the stolen jewels. Twinkletoes, you're breakin' my heart, You can't fuck with me, go play somewhere, I'm busy! And all you other cats throwin' shots at Jigga, You only get half a bar – fuck y'all, niggas!