| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 1:07 | 
|
|||
| 2. |
| 6:01 | 
|
|||
|
Fat Man Scoop, Crooklyn Clan
Timbaland, Timbaland Fat Man Scoop, Crooklyn Clan Timbaland, Timbaland Whatever I say, y'all gotta do Whatever I say, y'all gotta do Whatever I say, y'all gotta do Y'all too, y'all too, y'all too, y'all too Awww lord guess who's coming Timbaland A.K.A freaky Phil Drummond Who can get it crunk like me Timbaland Oh my nigga Scoop A.K.A fat man Weed guaranteed to make the party people bounce Fellas say (OH) girls say(ah) Lookin at the cornrows up in the club Girl don't be bashfull girl back it up Throw it girl like its poking man Shake that ass as fast as you can White girl shake it like she burning from a sun tan My dog grip it grab it like it was a soda can What you talking bout holding back When you get on the dance floor drop it like it was a cadillac What you talking bout cutting nigga slack girl girl you betta bend that back 12 my girls roll deep in the club Cant't wait to hit the bar and get that thug Where my dogs that got more than a hundred bucks Can't wait to freak one of the big old butts Before we start to turn it out you must learn to crunk out Before we start to turn it out You must first begin to Breathe in Breathe out Breathe in Breathe out Breathe in Breathe out Now drop now drop now drop now drop (x2) *If you got the fattest ass on the block now drop Let a nigga see the coochie pop now drop Do the snake do the freak do the pop now drop Yo don't stop don't stop Real eyes down south thighs Waist line five six seven now drop One time all in together now drop Yo dont stop dont stop Get your freak on at club We aint put the album out niggas got their leak on I done been up in the club seen a ho with a thong I aint hear good at first she was singing the song Shorty rocking donna she was pushing and popping Red bone with a bop she was stoping and dropping Stopping and dropping this the part of the song where You need be snaking and popping Snaking and popping yeah hoe Mag made the song Yall niggas still popping and locking Aint no zone a white girl I aint turbo rocking a damn curl Watch Mag slow while I break you down slow When you get it right girl go for what you know Wiggle a bit stop drop get up snake freak whop Wiggle a bit stop drop get up snake freak whop Get off the wall hands of your balls Yeah nigga with the drink in his hand trying to ball You dont want shorty I can show you the dance Gone once gone twice you done lost your chance Now stop for Big Pun stop for Big pun Drop for Big L drop for Big L *Repeat Guess who came with a cape on his back Pulled up with some gin hopped out the Cadillac Mag is chilling Tim is chilling When I get up in this club I'm making a hoe feel it Got no game but I got big cash Mess around I be leaving this club with Stacey Dash I aint cute enough but my jimmy got a flick and it shimmy I'm in the club pulling hoes with Timmy All my shadow people where freaky where you at All my Broadway people freaky where you at Where my fellas in the back with the carnie act Where my girls who think they got it like that All my independent freaky where you at All my get money dogs freaky where you at Where my girls with the thongs who be shaking it fast If you love to sing along nigga holla back *Repeat Show me what you working with(back it up back it up) Show me what you working with(back it up back it up) Show me what you working with(back it up back it up) Show me what you working with(back it up back it up) Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over |
||||||
| 3. |
| 3:57 |
|
|||
|
Uh, feel me?
To all the women across the world, we can't diss y'all We gotta love ya, that's real, uh To all my ladies in lingerie, never underage, who stay gettin paid Who like to take trips where the sun is shade To my women who love to ball out And spend all that money 'til ya fall out I feel like a pimp with a different pimp game with a different pimp name, with a little pimp fame I'm loaded with cash, loaded with class, loaded with a lot of things Even got a gat loaded for that ass I love my mind, love my soul, love my body I don't drink or smoke that's why I love my body You might catch me chillin with a little short hottie With a little piercin on her body Yes, I get it poppin, 'specially overseas Japenese girls even love my beats They say, "Timbaland we love you We love the dope things that you do" Even in London they say, "Tim, we love ya" They even call me things like wicked, and the f'n governer That's why I can't forget y'all That's why I had to make this roll call, uh *This here's for one and all It's so good to feel all a y'all, oooh Make that move and just ball out, oooh Life's too short for some time out, oooh This here's for one and all It's so good to feel all a y'all, oooh Make that move and just ball out, oooh Life's too short for some time out, oooh Back when shorty cherished the thing, yo' time was frequently saved for us stoppin and whiskey poppin to the Marvin and Gaye (Sonny, don't plan tomorrow but live for today) (Sonny, here's a quarter for that groovy arcade) From Cool J to Kane dawg, we changin the game So graphic with thangs, Pac-Man ain't lookin the same Haters, get more familiar who you robbin for change Sebast', a.k.a. Tyler Durden's the name Guess what people, it's the first of the month Guess what people, I can do what I want I can take, all my peoples on first class flights I can buy all my homegirls lightning new bikes I'm a don when it comes to just servin girls I'm a don so that's why nobody's in my world 'Cause Timabaland's that cool cat Aka Thomas Crown, don't forget that, uh *Repeat I'm just tryna' find what I need But I'd rather be smokin weed Live life to the fullest, drive cars, eat hot food Live in a mansion next to Hanson I ain't forgot that I'm from yo' hood I'm just tryna' be who you would Cause I hate the game, I hate the glory I could be with y'all, it would be another story You don't know all the things I seen More than fame and his naked greed They took my cash, take my name Put it up in bright lights, I ain't got a damn right Think I'm chillin and livin large Girl he's Mag not El DeBarge But I'm a be the man in charge in due time All my P-Town folk gettin paid, bottom line *Repeat This here's for one and all |
||||||
| 4. |
| 5:56 |
|
|||
|
Mind your manners, watch your ways
Be a good boy, just behave What's wrong with you? Settle down keep your two feet on the ground Sit up straight, stand up tall Never falter, never fall I stay in school Make the grade Never fail and never fade Be a hero, be a star Anything but what you are Find a girl to possess Always pay, pursue, protect Be a master, be a slave Work your way into an early grave But you deserve to be loved You deserve something real It's time to heal, time? to feel...love Daddy's favourite little girl Dress up in your mommy's pearls Serve his breakfast in his bed Earn a little kiss on the forehead You are sugar, you are spice You are growing up so nice Paint your nails, paint your face Paint around the empty space Find a man who can provide Try to fill the how inside With a family and a home Tell yourself you're not alone Keep the memories of yourself In a shoebox on the closet shelf But you deserve to be loved You deserve something real It's time to heal, time to feel...love I know somebody loves you Somebody, somebody love you |
||||||
| 5. |
| 4:25 |
|
|||
|
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 *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 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 *Repeat 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 *Repeat |
||||||
| 6. |
| 5:19 |
|
|||
| 7. |
| 4:38 |
|
|||
|
[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 |
||||||
| 8. |
| 1:47 |
|
|||
| 9. |
| 3:47 |
|
|||
|
[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] |
||||||
| 10. |
| 4:28 |
|
|||
|
[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 |
||||||
| 11. |
| 3:58 |
|
|||
|
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? |
||||||
| 12. |
| 4:24 |
|
|||
|
(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 |
||||||
| 13. |
| 3:41 |
|
|||
|
(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 |
||||||
| 14. |
| 0:51 |
|
|||
| 15. |
| 4:12 |
|
|||
| 16. |
| 4:48 |
|
|||
| 17. |
| 4:00 |
|
|||
|
[Verse 1: Timbaland]
I'll be with you on your way to work When your car turns on, you'll probably hear me You can't run your car without me (Without me) Want a deal, costs you a hundred G's I am, I am [Chorus: Static] I am music I'm melodies and harmonies Stereo and mono On the radio, the radio I said I am music I'm simply dope beats Intros and drum rolls On the radio, the radio [Verse 2: Static] I'll meet you at a summer jam I'm with you PM or AM I'll work out with you when you're at the gym And when you clean the house, I'll be in the den Cuz I am [Chorus 2: Static & Timbaland] I am music Melodies, harmonies Mono, stereo, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I am music Simply dope beats Tempos, drum rolls, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh [Verse 3: Aaliyah] You may find me at a shopping mall I'm not buying but I'll be for sale I'll be a feeling when your talent shows Might even hear me at a restaurant Cuz I am Repeat Chorus 2 Guitar Interlude Repeat Chorus 2 |
||||||
|
