It's Your Night 

(feat. Magoo, Sebastian, Sin)

(Timbaland talking)
C'mon, ah, c'mon, ah, bounce a little, what, c'mon, yeah
Ha, you didn't think I was comin like that did you?
Whooo!

[Sebastian]
From the corner to the dice where we rollin at
For all my homies gettin nice off that cognac
To ghetto chicks who appreciate the Cadillac
When it flip to the normal color like Mike was back
Nike hats, slightly above your nose and neck
Chucks and slacks, seperated from Gores and Tecs
Chicks in packs, please, let your weave relax
I'm so gangster with this rap bouncers hold me back

(Timbaland)
Hey G, I feel you black
But let me get up in this club and show you how I act
I'm a fool when it comes to these party girls
I'm a fool when it comes to this party world
Now ask yourself, now who do beats like me?
I was the one that gave you "Hey Papi"
I'm like Tupac, all eyes on me
Got niggas messed up in the industry, but it's ok

[Chorus: Storm & Shelby (Timbaland)]
It's your night (yeah), no need to act uptight (uh)
Go and grab somebody (go 'head), go and grab somebody
And be real
(And just dance a bit, c'mon and just dance a bit)
Do what you feel
(Uh huh, and just dance a bit, c'mon and just dance a bit

(Magoo)
Must be the first of the month
Mag get up on the track and I'm rappin drunk
Y'all wanna battle we can spit for days
Let up sixteen bars like mayo-naise
Swisher in my mouth, shower cap on my dome
Ain't in the studio, little shorty I'm home
Pass the phone, I'm a call all VA
Tell Sin, call Brooke and bring some Alize

(Sin)
Got in the game like what, it's over man (say what?)
I spit vodka, ain't sober man (say what?)
I'm a bigger guy, need extra pay
Give me a bed so I can lay in my Escalade
You could be black, Puerto Rican or Dominican
Room 219, I don't care, send it in
I'm a jiggy guy, ride one plus the five
Make it a six, big bad son of a bitch

[Chorus] 2x

(Magoo)
Sin got the Alize from home
Give me Lifestyles, put 'em on my jimmy, it's on
And peep out my manuscript
Mag and Tim party hoes so you gots to strip
And I ain't playin games when I heart
And leave Mag hangin hard suit with Christopher Darden
I take about a hour to bust
Chickens wanna get with Mag so they makin a fuss
Told 'em, "simmer down, you're next
Take my headphones, listen to Funkmaster Flex
I'll be about a minute or less
Stop sittin clothes on, take off your dress"

[Chorus] 2x

(Timbaland talking to fade)

Indian Carpet

(feat. Magoo, Static)

(Timbaland)
Yo (yo), yo, ay yo
Timabaland's flow infamous
Allow me to assemble this flow with limitless style
For all man, woman and innocent child
I have no perimeter
Break all barriers in various areas
My sound is mimicked
Track prime minister, some say sinister
None stoppin the groove until when it's
The climax, some niggas is bitin my hot hats
And followed my drum pattern, but I done that
It's time to change, get more deranged
Feels more strange (doooodooooo)
Follow me through gravel and shallow trees
From mountains to flat plain, to thunder and black rain
Through the dream state of utopia
Woke up to the sounds of that man Timbaland
Five Mexican bitches scopin us
Belly dancin, sayin "hell, he's handsome" in Spanish
We was fine until the subtitles vanished
Then and open fire, totin opium
Higher than I ever been in my life
Heard cries throughout the night like

[Chorus: Static]
Let's get 'em started
While they dance on, Indian Carpet
C'mon, uh
Niggas act retarded
While they dance on, Indian Carpet
C'mon, uh
Let's get 'em started
While they dance on, Indian Carpet

(Timbaland)
Ay yo, I woke up to a bowl of rice like the Golden Child
T.V. playin like the Poltergeist, must been on overnight
I saw a strong beam of light, decided to walk to it
Could it be the son of Christ, I decided to talk to it
In the halls I heard music shoutin beautiful calls
And I swore I heard a voice say:
It's yours my, gift to you, to do what you choose
But I suggest you do what you do to make the spirits move
I hear ya dude, and me bein a barrel of fruit
But your ears heavenly, when I sit in this chair and produce
Then my hallway darkened
I felt a power surge rush throughout my apartment
And the glance callin like

[Chorus]

(Magoo)
Mag spit with a sense of purpose on purpose
When you was eatin collard greens I was eatin these dreams
I stepped in dog shit and bit Skid Row twice
Only ice I had put it in my orange Slice
What you know about livin in a jail when it ain't no bars
Handcuffed with no key, world denyin your plea
A third-degree charge when it ain't no crime
Twenty-six years old and I got more time
Phone overdue, baby on the way, low pay
Low rent for your mom, gotta get away
Smoke, hate now, then you wanna talk about the ghetto
I'm tenth generation of that, came out the womb with a hat
Polo on and Nikes with a gold tooth
I'm Superman, I can spit from any phone booth
You and your cold ass crew do what you do
Just remember Mag never feel good, I am the flu

[Chorus]

Party People 

(feat. Magoo, Jay-Z, Twista)

[Jay-Z]
Guess who? Uh, uh-uh uh-uh
Jigga, ya heard?
Uh-uh, a-Timbaland, ya heard?
Uh, Twista, ya heard? C'mon, c'mon
Uh-uh, uh-uh, g-ge, ge-geah
Yo.. yo.. ye-yea, ye-yea
Turn this up.. yo, yo, yeah

When the war's on, the 4's are drawn like pictures
The niggaz is all gone when these triggers get witcha
Nigga before long you need stitches in your longjohns
A.K., t-t-t-t, heartbeat, t-t-t-t
Eight figures you fake twitchy niggaz can't stop (that)
Jigga, Twista my nigga Timb on the hot track
How you gon' stop that? We can't be slowed
Niggaz (?), look at your clothes
When I'm in crazy mode, three-eighty blows like
Maceo, leave acey holes
That's just Jay-Z doe, crazy flow
Rhyme great, dominate your radio
C'mon, get your gun, your mask and gloves
I don't ask for love, I blast 'em up
Respect my gangsta dude, or your life's in danger dude
Doctors pushin on your chest tryin to bring you through

[Chorus: Timbaland] + (Twista)
All my party people gon' do what? (Gonna get buck)
Get some liquor in the gut (So whassup?)
(Get them lighters lit up, make them get up
with somethin the East and West gon' bump)
All my party people gon' do what? (Get crunk)
Get some liquor in the gut (So whassup?)
(Get them lighters lit up, T got some gangsta shit
that's beatin in yo' trunk)

[Magoo]
Fuckin with Mag, nigga end up in a hospital
Sittin on the corner of the bed, sick cause of what I said to him
On a track star beef take it in the kitchen
Cookin MC's all niggaz taste like chicken
Hittin 'em high, bitin they ear
Tyson on a muh'fucker vampire style, I'm a bloodsucker
You turnin into a mad ducker, tellin ya dog
I'm at the Rucker with a bad Puerto Rican chick
Fat as my cash and she a dick sucker, get up outcha car
You ain't goin real far, see the chainsaw?
Breakin the law, like turnin a dyke
when it come to that man that just like Mike
I don't care what you like, I'll make you run in outer space
If you go to court man, only wish you got a case
For real, I'm fuckin faced on a hill of ice
Mag hot now nigga 50 G's the price

[Timbaland]
Timbaland good for that - {*beat plays, he scats*}
{*scatting*} - I invented that
Hear the hi-hat, hear the bassline on the track
Remember "One in a Million" when I left ya back
Producers sayin, "How you get your sound like that?"
I don't know playa, I'm a creative cat
Got party people dancin to dis and dat
Got party people sayin, "This a dope-ass track!"

[Chorus]

[Twista]
Timbaland hit 'em with the um, ah-um, ah-um-ahh, you gon' do what?
Stop frontin you bumpin the new cut
like a shoe ah, um ah-um ah, hit 'em in the gut
Twitchin and itchin to get up, I hit 'em up
With some skanless to vibe to and ride to
with the stanky inside you - listen to while a freak lickin you
Go on a bogus mission to, somethin you crip-walk in the kitchen to
Somethin you bump on the porch or the park
Or pump it while you displayin yo' heart when you flex on a mark
You can play it to clear your head from drama with the feds
and all the homies like down for when they in the dark
Used to rock up at the block club, players wasn't ridin slick
You can let your mind cruise for miles
They can't tell no sucker who's allowed, with a strap on the mic
I'm thinkin how can I move the crowd, move the crowd

[Chorus] - repeat 2X

[Timbaland]
.. bounce wit me, bounce wit me, bounce, ow ow ow
Ow ow ow-ow ah, shake wit me, shake wit me, shake wit me, shake..
.. bounce wit me, bounce wit me..
Shake wit me, shake wit me
Ow, one time, bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Yo, ahh

Remember when you first found me?
I was workin at Burger King
Now take a good look around me
Look at all these cars, look at all these girls
Why you always tryin to put down me?
Why you always tryin to put down me?
You get 'round your friends and try to clown me
Why you always tryin to pull that boo-boo?
I'm gettin tired of all that bullshit
Always talkin dis and dat
Your girls screamin, "We looove him!"
See girls, they LOVE me
Girl that's just, only Tim
Yes, it's only Tim
Whatchu talkin 'bout that's only Tim?
Yeah whatchu talkin 'bout that's only Tim?
Cause

[Timbaland: repeat 2X]
I made it this far (this far)
Made it without yo' money (yo' money)
Made it without yo' car (yo' car)
Made it without yo' naggin (what?)
Now look who's the star (whoo!)

[Timbaland]
YaknowhatI'msayin?
Why it gotta happen to people like me, I don't get it
I don't understand it
That's why people like myself, only hang with self
Hahaha, and nobody else
Easy now

People Like Myself

(feat. Magoo, Static, Playa)

[Chorus: Timbaland]
People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without findin some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

[repeat Chorus]

[Magoo]
It's Mag from your TV screen, buzzin off the Jim Beam
But the Mag y'all think y'all know ain't what I seem
I'm a low-down freak from Chesapeake
See them high school mates, I see 'em and don't speak
All y'all wanna talk like we used to hang
Cause I'm doin my thang, now you wanna bask in my fame
That's why I stay out the club, be in the crib
Smokin a dub, countin my cash, over the phone
And I'm sellin cell phones, all with chips
My nine to bloods, my glock to crips, who want war?
You and your boys can bring the noise
But I'ma bring hand grenades, now you're laid!
Pull out my dick, piss on your bitch-ass
Sit on your face, now you gotta kiss ass
Who fiend for fame life belong to your fans
and haters and thugs that wanna end your lifespan

[Chorus]

[Timbaland]
Uhh, uhh, uhh - since I got bigger (bigger)
I'm over here and y'all recite Tim's my nigga (nigga)
Like I just figure (figure)
And my tracks didn't help niggaz
So for rememdy I pound niggaz
Like I keep 'em in DJ's for that new Jigga
Like them forty-two Girbauds
I pocket every demo, like Timbaland - he's that next nigga
Confirmed by people that she can blow
Convinced Booker T she's the next to go
Now I'm checkin every joint and every unit I sold
Once I'm deep in the dough, I'm deep with a crew
In the 80's y'all screamed like the movie is through
Y'all screamin this is "Nutty Professor: Part II"
To "Eyes Wide Shut" to whoever I choose
I can appreciate a Kidman to a, Tom Cruise
To a, fast food, I'm strictly drive-through
The money I gave dudes I basically raised fools

[Chorus]

[Magoo]
Even the phone spit it, God know what I'm thinkin
I'm drinkin and smokin and stressin, go to church for confession
Down on my knees, beggin to God, show me the path
My label is jerkin me workin me so the devil can lurk in me
Sick of niggaz bitchin, wishin I'd fail
Tell 'em Mag be the rap effin Kenan and Kel
I'm spittin the version of verses curses over the churches
Rappin mo' iller than thriller Manila and give you salmonella

[Timbaland]
Stop, the press!
Bitch, you can't afford that dress, you can't afford that hairdo
I don't want your sex, here take your fast food
"Tim you're dead wrong, Tim you're dead rude!"
Hey girl, I don't even know you
"Timbaland we're your first cousin Marion Sue"
My momma never ever mentioned you
My momma also told me to watch them savage boos, what?

[Chorus: sung by Static] - repeat 2X

Voice Mail

lyrics not provided yet

Serious

(feat. Magoo, Petey Pablo)

[Timbaland]
Wha-what what-what-wha-what, wha-what what what-wha-wha-what
Wha-what what-what-wha-what, what what what-wha-wha-what
Put in that thang, put me in that bank, whoo!
Put me in that drank, put me in that thang, what!
Put me in that drank, put me in that thang
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Freaky-freaky-freaky - uhh

Put me in that drank, put me in that game, YO
Put me in that Range, better yet that Phillies YO
Put me with them clothes, Coogie at the toes
Tim about to let us know - WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
Put me with them models, put me in new models YO
Gimme face lifts, manicures you silly hoe
You was bowlegged now you walk pigeon-toed
You came in the front, I kick you out the back do'
I'm a landlord, drug dealers cockroach(?)
Who got the forty-five, I got the crossroads(?)
I'm chillin in Cuba, chillin in the Pocanos
We some down-to-earth fools, who don't act first
We gettin rowdy and we bust them things yo
That's what you get, for messin with us country folk
I'm from V-A and I got it locked yo
I'm from V-A and I got it hot yo

[Chorus: Petey Pablo]
It's SERIOUS! We came to handle our business
Handle these niggaz, handle these bitches
It's SERIOUS! Only game we playin is ours
And we ain't gon' never foul out
{repeat 2X}
It's SERIOUS!

[Magoo]
Put me in that Lex', let her give me head in it
Put me in the room, hit her on the bed in it
Get me on the corner I'ma sell the whole load
Niggaz try to rock when the nine out unload
Unload my world like a St. Louie Ram
Put it down like a Florida at the screen jam(?)
Y'all fuckin with the ultimate
Shit in the park punk and now you eatin it
Rip off your shine, take out the hardest line
You (?) me actin funny like a Valentine
You fuckin with wilderbeasts when you come to VA
You niggaz ain't even try I know you niggaz don't spray
UHH - put me on the corner liquor store with whores
A slice of white bread and a Mary Jane warehouse
I know I spit on the track, walk around a pimp fox
One all in my cash, rubbin on my fuckin socks

[Chorus]

[Timbaland]
Timbaland! I'm that man!
Watch that man! Stop that man!
Bitch, don't you dare grin
No favors, you been what I been
I'm a hot tomale no you a hot tomale
Don't give a hell what they say or read about me
I'm a rich man, invest in stock man
I buy land from the (freaky-freaky) white man
I move to Atlanta with Country Grammar
and move to 'bama with nails and hammers
to put the posters on Havannah
Move to China to move through miners
Then move to shirts, drawers, pants, and to the panty-liners
I got them cars, I got them thangs
I got them planes, I got a whole squad entertained
Timbaland, I'm the man
So ladies.. wave ya hands, what!

[Chorus]

Roll Out

(feat. Magoo, Petey Pablo, Smokey, Playa)

[Intro: Timbaland]
Hey y'all, can y'all do something for me?
Can y'all bounce, can y'all bounce, what?
Hey y'all, can y'all do something for me?
Can y'all bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce?
Hey y'all, can y'all do something for me?
Can y'all bounce, can y'all bounce, what?
Hey y'all, can y'all do something for me?
Ficky, ficky, ficky, ficky, Timbaland

[Timbaland]
I be creepin' in backyards, dippin in alley ways
My brother in the 360, I'm in a escalade
We piled ride high, sittin' on low pros
Petey in the back of us, with his range rov
Bold ladies sittin' in back, one ridin' in the front
No smokin' in here, so put out your freakin' blunt
This how we gon' do it, so pay attention to the rules
Women in sexy gear, draws down and no shoes
That's why we keep it live, cuz we keep ours alive
For that alcohol is full of, full of surprise
That's how we're gonna ball, walk before we crawl
This here, this here, is that party y'all

[Chorus]
Roll Out (ROLL!)
Get crunked (ROLL!)
Get your girls (ROLL!)
Get your boys (ROLL!)
Hit the switches (ROLL!)
Bring the noise (ROLL!)
{*panting noises)
Roll Out (ROLL!}
Get crunked (ROLL!)
Get your girls (ROLL!)
Get your boys (ROLL!)
Hit the switches (ROLL!)
Bring the noise (ROLL!)
{*panting noises}

[Petey Pablo]
Roughest, toughest, fastest, one of the baddest
Rappin' asses, tickin' on a Timbaland classic
Layin' in traffic, shiftin gears in the automatic
Tryin' to get past this old couple in a Maverick
Beepin' my horn at 'em, flickin' on my hazards
G. callin' me, on his cell phone laughin'
Thinkin' his chick hang out the sunroof flashin'
I done went in the grass, like to kill a rabbit
Swerve back into traffic, radio blastin'
Slammed on the brakes {*SKRUT!}, ya old bastard
Tim zig-zaggin', hell, he in the back and
Girls sittin' on the trunk, droppin' wine glasses
Wind blowin' dresses up, showin' off the panties
Polka-dot stripe thongs crammed in they fannies
WHOOP! You could be Ms. Barry, fine as you is
Tim, pull it over, let 'em ride in here

Repeat Chorus

[Smokey]
Catch me in a chick, and her name is Kim
Tryna tell you who I hit cuz I ran out of Bim
Fast food so dangerous that I'm crackin' my rim
Like why Taco Bell drive-thru so damn slim
I'm out north too, no top on the Benz
Big body, too, just like I walked out the gym
Man, I'm sppeding through, not just feeling the wind
Look, the needle to the gas tank is right at the end
Now, I'm needing to sin, lying again
Pumpin' gas in the Benz, with no money to spend
And every kid that walk in, cashier turning again
So it's a good thing that lady walked in her twins

Repeat Chorus

[Magoo]
All I do is listen to Eightball, with the hoes on call
High dank in my gas tank and eat raw franks
Grill in my bed and serve 2 steak and siemen
And I'm scheming on your daughter with on condom and Clairborne
Don't get it twisted, I'm gold-toothed and two-fisted
Both arms ready to roll, chrome-wristed
I'm past being beserk, I go to work
Tell the boss "Go 'head give me some sugars and hot sauce"
With an atrack of Diana Ross playing
And drunk off some moonshine, I passed out and woke up at noontime
Thought it was crack of dawn, but ass was in my face
Said them draws was versache, I thought she had versace

Repeat Chorus

Love Me

(feat. Magoo, Tweet)

And we're back.. playing the hottest mu-sic on your radio
Coast to coast.. worldwide shore to shore sea to sea
I am your host.. DeBruca
And you're listening to the hottest radio station, in all the land
W-poon-poon-P..

[Tweet]
What a revelation (lation)
You're the reason that I breathe
Innocent creation
I can use you as I please
The only one to tell my story
when words are hard to catch
Of all that comes with fame and glory
You let me rock you best
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooo-oooh, ooooo-oooh..

Such a sensation (sation)
Hypnotizin melo-dy
No limitations
I can stroke yo' every key
And you'll give me that do-re-mi-so
And sometimes double-time
And sometimes you'll love me nice and slow
Makes me wanna sing this rhyme
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooohh.. oooh-weeee..
Ooooo-oooh, ooooo-oooh..

[w/ voicebox]
Love me.. like I, love you
Don't you love me boo? Don't you love me boo?
Love me.. like I, love you
Don't you love me boo?
Promising, promising now, that I love ya, I love ya
I love ya, I LOVE YA!
I do love ya.. yes Iiiiiii do, yes I do
Can you love me, can you love me
Can you love me, can you love me
toniiiiight, toniiiiight?
Can you love me, now can you love me
Now can you love me, now can you love me
toniiiiight, toniiiiight? All I wanna say to you is
Can you love me, can you love me?
Can you love me love me?

Baby Bubba

(feat. Magoo, Petey Pablo)

(Pop a Dom boo, what, c'mon)

[Petey Pablo]
It's the dippy dippy don now you heard that
Let's take you back, where the original Tim the bird at?
I got shit here to make you down on twelve-pack
Call Rudy, tell him hook us up a twenty sack
C'mon c'mon c'mon, we ballin y'all
Where my cats think you feel me at?
Alla y'all, and when we earn that
They finally let the dish and the pan
Then I start with some cash
Let me get to Virginia (V-A) link up with Timbaland
Now I'm bustin they ass
Now they callin me The Incredible Man
I'ma shit it sick like YEAHHH
And there is one thing to understand
Y'all know what it is and Petey is just what I am
Spit what I spit cause I don't give a damn
Spin like just like y'all spin at the mall in blue drawers
On some du-rag, it's 'bout to be the all that is
New broad, new day, new cars, new motherfuckin deal
Heyyyyyy

[Chorus: Petey Pablo]
Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba
If y'all feel it let me hear you say
Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba
We lost the music selector
Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba
If y'all feel it let me hear you say
Heyyyeyyyeyyyyy baby bubba
Well he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean fah-ward

[Timbaland]
Check me out in my black Trans-Am dippin on that man, who that be?
TIM-BA-land, now haters wanna get at me
Just because we three brothers dippin in the FLY RIDE
He don't care though, nigga we just three FLY GUYS
all up in your local mall pickin all your local broads
HOLLA - if you wanna get into a local brawl
We the in-timidators, y'all in-timidated
by our bling bling ring ring, and I can't debate it
LOWRIDERS (bzz bzzt) hittin on switches
As we PASS BY YA (bzz bzzt) in sun fire - c'mon!
What y'all need to do is throw that shit up, shit up
For the cool amigos with Tequila in the gut
What y'all know about them Southern girls with them big butts?
What y'all know about them buckshots bustin from a truck?
Yeah, yeah - that's that Southern hospitality
The come of the me, the come of the Pete
The come of the 'goo, the come of the G

[Chorus]

[Magoo]
Mag spit it 'til I die fucker
You wit your label kissin ass like a damn sucker
Meanwhile, Mag in Virginia in some house shoes, watchin the news
Do my album when I'm ready, tell my label to sue
If I got it I'ma get 'em, it's cornered and sell some (?)
from N-Y to floater while I'm humpin your daughter
Stayin in the French quarter and listen to Juvenile
I like that South shit, all my niggaz is wild
You gotta come up with a new plan, I'm sayin man
South boys ain't fuckin playin - check them
This week got OutKast and No Limit, and Eightball
Scarface, Ludacris, and Goodie Mob, UHH
We do it country cause we proud of this shit
All those that wanna hate on hip-hop can eat a dick
I ain't a thug and I ain't tryna be
They tryna take my love man and it bothered me

[Chorus] - repeat 2X

In Time

(feat. Magoo, Mad Skillz, Ms. Jade)

(C'mon girl, I was just playin with you)

[Timbaland]
Ah - c'mon, ah
You would not believe - c'mon, ah
What's goin down right now - c'mon, ah
Holla!! C'mon ah
You would not believe - c'mon, ah
What's about to go down right now - c'mon, ah
Holla, c'mon..

Guess who's back it's your favorite man
Thomas Crown, a.k.a. (freaky) Timbaland
I keep 'em twelve deep in the full motion van
Mamis betta not speak unless I say they can
Hon - whatchu know about this guy?
I've been hittin girls back since "Cooley High"
Groovy right, whatch'all girls doin tonight?
Bumble bee let's hum right on this flight

[Ms. Jade]
Hum on a flight? Nigga you 'fraid of heights
Ms. Jade have you whinin by the end of the night
Try and try and have 'em sick when I board the jet
Dough from bets, fuck around and saw off they necks
You heard me black? Squeaky-ass Cadillacs
I owe you one, you fuck around and owe me back
Got Franklin on the mind, shit I ain't gon' front
I'm a number one sinner, what-wha-wha-what?

[Chorus: Timbaland]
Life, is, what you make it
I got plenty big faces.. to spend on you-oooh-ooh
Life, is, what you make it
I got plenty big faces.. to spend on you, in time

[Magoo]
I'll be yo' penicillin, keepin my jimmy chillin
What more can I say? Top billin
Niggaz got the feelin I'm wack and I fell off
Said bird is the word is Charmin and Mag's off?
Don't y'all see I ain't new to this game?
Got hoes in each town wanna swoon me for fame
But I get 'em for they cash, smokin up all they hash
Treat 'em like garbage, leavin 'em in the trash

[Ms. Jade]
Mag I wreckon you right, but it's my fuckin night
X-5, bing truck, high as a kite
Powder be white, Ms. Jade, powerful bite
Pet niggaz make they asses ride the back of my bike
Pay for nuts and want for nada, I ain't bluffin
See me in the back of the club, steadily puffin
In time you will buy me this and that
Meanwhile motherfucker betta holla back

[Chorus]

[Mad Skillz]
Uh, c'mon ma, I seen you starin when I hit the door
You ain't gotta front boo, I know that shit ain't yours
I'm like Big out the Maximas and Acuras
Trust me sweets butt-cheeks I be smackin UP!
.. and that shit's fo'sho'
What I really wanna say is, "Getcha coat, let's go"
You seen the whips outside, the fly one's mine
I'm with Tim and Mag, don't lie, take your time

[Ms. Jade]
Lie for what? Never been that type of chick
Rubber band around the wrist, be the type to grip
and flip the script, send your ass home all limp
Motherfucker you ain't know? I'm a female pimp
King Kong trips, ridin all the latest whips
With a Corona in the holder I'm the latest bitch
Yup - you could call me the greatest wench
Yup - when you fuck with the greatest clique

[Chorus] - repeat 2X