Written' Rhymes

Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
Ooh, aah
Check it out

This is how I wanna spit it
I bullshitted in the 80s (for real)
I had to get my mind up off the ladies
Like these worldly things
A baby Beem and shiny rings
See this is how we do things
When you're fucking with the kings of the streets
New York is all respected
But still we keep it hectic, in places we be wrecking
Where we from, Timbaland (VA)
See that's my man, so understand these things
Three niggas thinking 'bout cream
Me and Magoo, y'all realize we roll with CRU (huh)
All respect too, that's why your girl ain't lovin' you
We peep the card in the steez
We even got the keys to the bed where you rest
Your life is based on stress
So just relax, kid
Because my mack days are in the mist
And you ain't got a chance
Like Sharon Stone on the Last Dance
It's easy pants, when I'm running with your lady
Ask your boys, I'm pushing your Mercedes
So what nigga

Writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(Uh-huh, huh, uh-huh, huh, huh)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else)
(Uh, say what, say what, say what)
If writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(That they want to do)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else)

They don't gotta nothing else y'all, check it
Dig 'em, court VD, now I'm sick with 'em
Ate a pack of cheese now I just bullshit with 'em
Kick 'em, nigga when your down, look I got to getcha
Get away with the crime, that's the wrong picture
I'm in a zone like a teen on a phone
H-I with no V, but I stay full blown
Hah yeah yo, put nick out the door
You move quick but bitch, yeah you're too slow
Get on your knees like a dog and scratch your fleas
Somebody on the phone want to talk to your (?)
But I got my life and Mary what's the 411
Niggas get shook when I rhyme, you best to fucking run
Get out the way 'cause my recital's suicidal
I'm the rebel when I yell, y'all know, ask Billy Idol
Son of a bitch 'cause he a son and you's a bitch
Me die for you, girl go dig your own ditch

Writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(Uh-huh, huh, uh-huh, huh, huh)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else)
If writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(That they want to do)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else)
(Check it out, check it out, say what, say what, uh)
Writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(Uh-huh, huh, uh-huh, huh, huh)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else)
(They don't gotta do, say what, baby what)
If writtin' rhymes is all that they wanna do
(Uh-huh, huh, uh-huh, huh, huh, what)
They don't gotta do anything else
(They don't gotta do anything else, check it out, baby)

Hear this beat
It's done by me
I do them ill beats, you know what I'm saying
People always try to bite me, yo
But they can't bit this one
Huh, they might try
But you know what
You got to pay a samplin' fee if you bite me
Like that, uh, like that
Uh, Misdemeanor, uh, like that
Ginuwine, uh, like that
Aaliyah, like that
Playa, like that
Big Rob, like that
Big E, like that
Of course, my man M-A-G-OO
And me Timbaland
Jimmy D, we out for 97E
Can't forget my man Elliot
Only one
Check it out baby
The fight just begun we out



Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Mosley, Melvin Barcliff, Troy Mitchell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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