Wit Yo Bad Self Lyrics by Timbaland & Magoo

Wit Yo Bad Self Lyrics

    [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

SEARCH LYRICS