Timbaland

Timbaland - Wit' Yo' Bad Self lyrics

Your rating:

[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
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Blackground Entertainment

Details:

Released in: 1998

Language: English

Appearing on: Tim's Bio (1998)

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found