(feat. Mad Skillz)
|
|
[Timbaland]
|
Here we go again
|
Ha ha, here we go again
|
Make it hot, uhh
|
(Yeah) Here we go again
|
Make it hot Mad
|
Huh, here we go again
|
We're gon' make it hot
|
Ha ha, here we go again
|
(Yo) Skillz
|
|
[Mad Skillz]
|
Now listen, baby girl, I don't like kissin
|
Flip your back out, and we can start twistin
|
Check the intuition, the dime definition
|
Cop all the rocks that sparkle and glisten
|
Where your man at? Yo, that cat missin
|
I got you on the line, you mine, no fishin
|
Satisfaction, no competition
|
We rock the V-12, we leave him the 6's
|
What's the deal? Fulfill every wish and
|
haters keep hatin, dissers keep dissin
|
We rich and, I take you out on a mission
|
You can make it hot, what I do make it sizzle
|
Keep you lookin jig', your nails to precision
|
Got your girls jealous, to be you them chicks wishin
|
Hit it on the bullseye Boo no missin
|
Keep swishin, you see gold like Slick Rick and
|
|
[Chorus: Timbaland (repeat 2X)]
|
|
(Go ahead Daddy, go ahead) Wit' yo' bad self
|
(Go ahead Daddy, go ahead) Wit' yo' bad
|
(Go ahead Daddy, go ahead) Wit' yo' bad self
|
(Go ahead Daddy, go ahead) Wit' yo' bad
|
|
[Mad Skillz]
|
Now what you want? Prada, Escada, you got that
|
The way the one's stack ain't no way that you can stop that
|
You in the way girl? Boom when I block that
|
Treated your physique like a beat and I rock that
|
You got your Hustle? I ain't tryin to Knock that
|
Drop carats and the ring, make sure the rock's fat
|
You can rise, but you ain't tryin to stop that
|
You'd think I had the keys Boo the way I locked that
|
Oh that's your man? I think it's time to drop that
|
Lay it off, play it off, yeah you get the props back
|
You get the dress, I get the cane and the top hat
|
After we done Boo, I let you run the clock back
|
Fallin in love? Oh never not that
|
Who you know who control where they gettin jocked at?
|
And in Vegas I'm hittin it up like a slot rack
|
If you think you runnin game girl you need to botch that
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Mad Skillz]
|
Now when you came in the door, I seen you before
|
A dime, fine all the way to the core
|
Thick enough to make a nigga drop to the floor
|
Talked in your ear til my throat got sore
|
Lames, she could see my game was straight raw
|
Specially since she bought my tape right out the store
|
She was like, "Ain't you 'sposed to be out on tour?"
|
"Since you ain't tryin to go Boo, what you askin for?"
|
Need I say more, from the 8-oh-4
|
If you placin bets girl, then you best be sure
|
Slick, if you sick, then I got the cure
|
Chrome spinnin, we winnin Boo, check the score
|
Filthy rich, I like to dress like I'm four
|
Have the chicks fightin like the next World War
|
Sure, yo you never treat em like a whore
|
Like Jay said, "Love it or hate it, eith-er or"
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Timbaland]
|
Uhh, what, uh huh
|
What, like that, what
|
Timbaland, what
|
Mad Skillz, uhh
|
Collabo', what
|
Don't go, baby
|
Don't go, baby baby
|
Don't go
|
|
[Chorus (w/o Timbaland)]
|
|
[(Go ahead) 2X]
|
|
-----------------
|
Wit' Yo' Bad Self
|
| Timbaland |
