Timbaland

Timbaland - Bringin' It lyrics

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What
 Yo yo yo yo yo yo
 Ha ha
 It ain't over baby
 It dont stop like dat dat dat datdat dat
 Wah kump
 Dat datdat dat
 Wah kump  wah kump
 Dat dat dat datdat dat
 Wah kump
 Come on

 One question:
 Who be the thug that yall love most?
 Or give a toast to this freestyle drug dose
 The thug muscle
 So whistle if you hear clear
 Gon' get you close and yous a dead man like last year
 See most fear
 The marvelous, alias
 You dare discuss and get yo muthafuckin head crushed
 These slugs bust the most wanted when they just appointed
 I stomp dogs and leave em froze because you know you fronted
 Too many MC's not clearly on this hype tip
 I'll fuck yo mic and catch you later on some snipe shit
 extended clips I represent because my thugs trip
 Easy boy, I'm stompin corners where them drugs flip
 Ali Baba snakin lakin trustin north shit
 You catch a grip or leave a don to climb the night hits
 It's mob official
 You test I'll leave you knock-knissued
 Bandaged up like a snitch cuz I ain't fuckin with you
 Straight up, we bringin' it

 What y'all, huh huh, V-A
 Know about this
 What y'all in Hampton, huh huh
 Know about this
 What y'all in p-town
 Know about this
 What y'All in Hoviay
 Know about this

 Check it out
 I'm ya p-town hit man
 I'll make ya shit man
 Pay my stick man to do my dirt
 I'm filthy rich man
 My thugs always hang around the top dog of all dogs
 Make em pick locks and spit glocks until you shit rocks
 I told you that I'm project strong
 You took me wrong and learned that thorough cats don't last long
 Alias the Don
 I leave it messy like I'm Joseph Pesci
 don't fuck around, you ever test me and you'll have to wet me
 I'm ghetto fabulous
 the mob crush the Lord just, never be discussed
 When there's dirt involved, niggas leave the mouth closed to hush
 I rush club scenes like, "What?"
 Always carryin the bust
 The reason why, these niggas that ruck ain't had enough
 I hate to peel ya cabbage back, or bitch-slap
 Cuz otherwise you wouldn't quit that, to kidnap
 So what I'm sayin is, everybody's real within the game
 Alias be the fame, so you don't know my name, NIGGA WHAT

 What y'all V-A
 know about this
 What y'all in Hampton, what
 Know about this
 What y'all in Nomo
 Know about this
 What y'll in Chesapeake
 Know about this
 Bring it boy

 See I told y'all motherfuckers that my clique roll deep
 AK's and street sweeps gunnin down in ya peeps
 44's and Calico, Pretty Ricky and Low
 Thugs know
 The real on how I let shit go
 But if it's real, my niggas hold a forty and fill
 Mass grills, body armor, niggas trained to kill
 I'm at the point of no return, so I let shells spill
 Vinny Rush, Crazy JJ and Mush must chill
 And Killa K and Johnny Hesh steady aimin that steel
 Shit's for real, my nigga P and Mike might peel
 They get the gats and crazy stuff my brother love the ghetto tugs
 and set on top of niggas what let's straight wet the party up
 ESP was in the cut my rootin black, pull it up
 Is that enough?
 Y'all niggas still fail to call my bluff?
 And yet I told you, when left back cain't nobody knows you
 I suppose you
 Woulda kept your mouth closed like I told you

 What y'all in V-A
 Know about this- I told you
 What y'all in Nomo, what
 Know about this, what
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)

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