Do U Wanna Ride

[Intro] 
This is the operator with a collect call from "Emory Jones" 
To accept the charges, press one now 

[Jay-Z] 
Uhh, woo! 
Emory whattup? 
Told you I ain't too good with writin letters and all 
Shit I don't even write rhymes 
But what I will do 
I'ma send you this opus scribed through the airwaves 
Vibe with me 

[Chorus: John Legend] 
I knowwwww I knowwwwww 
Some places we can go, some places we can go 
I knowwwww I knowwwwww! 
Some places we can go, some places we can go 
Do you wanna riiiiiiide... with me 
Do you wanna RIIIIIIIDE... with me 

[Jay-Z - over Chorus] 
Uh-huh, uh-huh 
Yeah nigga I bet we was kids and had dreams of bein here 
I said "we" cause I'm here, you here! 
Uhh 
Yeah, ride with me, your spot is reserved family 
Cigarette boats, yachts, ain't nowhere we can't go 
We in South Beach and the Hamptons too baby! 

[Jay-Z] 
You know why they call The Projects a project, because it's a project! 
An experiment, where in it, only it's objects 
And the object for us to explore our prospects 
And sidestep cops on the way to the top - yes! 
As kids we would daydream, sittin on our steps 
Pointin at cars like yeah that's our sex 
Hustlers, prophets, made our eyes stretch 
Swanson got the spot, shit we started our trek 
Some of us made it, most of us digressed 
In the name of those who ain't made it my progress 
Show success please live through me 
See I'm the eyes for Emory, keep him alive 
(This is a collect call) So everytime I press five 
All he wanna hear is his boy talk fly 
Up in the fed, and still holdin his head 
So when he hits the streets he gon' eat through this bread 
Now let's ride 

[Chorus] 

[Jay-Z - over Chorus] 
Uh-huh, geah 
I'm crushin 'em all for Jones 
MTV, BET, the Grammys, crushed linen, purple label 
All that fly shit we talked about 
Give him some nice pinky rings with the blue diamonds and e'rything 
Hehehe, that's what we talked about right? 
Uh-huh... tried to told you, ride with me 

[Jay-Z] 
International Hov', I told you so 
Forty 40's out in Tokyo 
Singapore, all this from singin songs 
Comin up though we thought slingin raw 
was the end all be all of bein rich didn't we 
Little did I know my mo' potent delivery 
would deliver me, kingpin of the inkpen 
Monster of the double entendre, Coke is still my sponsor 
Heh, the Cola, yeah 
Hova still gettin it in with soda 
Diet, no sir, I ain't lose no weight 
Started from the crates now I'm sittin on a whole case 
Since they got you sittin on that old case 
Our dreams is on hold like Tivo 
So I can't wait 'til you get your date 
I got some temp plates outside of the gate 
We gon' ride 

[Chorus] 

[Jay-Z - over Chorus] 
Uh-huh, uh-huh 
Geah 
Don't even worry about it though, you ain't missed nuttin 
It only gets better, they got the Maybach Coupe now 
Look like the Batmobile, the Phantom the top just comes off that joint 
It only gets better 
They caught your body they can't trap your mind 
Keep your spirit alive read your books 
Matter of fact, let me take you somewhere 
Vibe with me, c'mon 

[Jay-Z] 
Now me and my lil' mama, Kita and Tata 
Juan and Dez out in San Tropez 
Jay round in Gabana, sneakin marijuana 
You know that Mary J. give you +No More Drama+ 
Lost a couple friends this whole shit got weird 
But when you get home you know your spot's reserved, ya heard? 
I put my niggaz on, my niggaz put they niggaz on 
Now we all somewhere fun, chillin in the sun 
I ain't forget you cousin, hehe 
Yeah nigga y'all can wear sneakers on the beach if you want to 
Y'all niggaz come and c'mon, playin money marathon 
My young'n is LeBron, you know what that makes me baby 
Big Homey! Hehe, Emory what's up? 

[Chorus - starts over last few lines of above] 

[Jay - over Chorus] 
Wan' ride with us? You're more than welcome 
We ain't on no bullshit, uhh 
Put your feet up 
Big Tye I see you boy 
Guru, I don't usually do this but 
Roll me up son man 
Let me get mellow on this shit right here 
Uh-huh, yeah 
Uh-huh, white paper though nigga 
Can't even fuck with those blunts 
White paper baby, old school nigga gimme a joint 
Smooth it out, Young H.O. 
Henry Jones 
Word to my momma we livin!