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Timbaland

Genres: Hip-Hop

Wit' Yo' Bad Self Lyrics - Timbaland

(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 

 

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(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 

 

Photos 

 

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 

 

(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" 

 

(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 

 

(w/o Timbaland) 

 

(Go ahead) 2X 

Writer: , ,

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