Writtin' 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
Check it out

This is how I want to spit it, I bullshitted in the 80s (forbid) (uh-huh)
I had to get my mind up off the ladies
Like these worldly things, a baby beam and shiny rings
See, this is how we do things when you're fucking with the kings (uh-huh) of the streets
New York is all respected but still we keep it hectic
In places where we be wrecking, where we from, Timbaland (VA)
See that's my man so understand these things
Three niggas thinking about cream

Me and Magoo, you all realize we roll with CRU (huh)
All respect too, that's why your girl ain't loving you
We peep the card in the steel
We even got the keys to the bed where you rest (uh-huh)
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 past, when I'm running with your lady
Ask your boys, I'm pushing your Mercedes, so, what nigga?

Writing rhymes is all that they want to do (uh-huh, huh, uh-huh, huh, huh)
They don't gotta do anything else (they don't gotta do anything else)
Uh-huh, what? Huh, what? Huh (say what, say what, say what?)
If writing rhymes is all that they want to do (that they want to do)
They don't gotta do anything else (they don't gotta do what?) {Yeah}
They ain't gotta nothing else y'all, check it

Dick 'em, court VD, now I'm sick with them
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 (what?)
H-I with no V, but I stay full-blown
Hah yeah, yo, put nick out the door
You move quick but bitch, yeah your too slow

Get on your knees like a dog and scratch yah fleas
Somebody on the phone want to talk to your boobies
But I got my life and Mary what's the 411
Niggas get shook when I rhyme, you best get fucking run
Get out the way 'cause my recitals suicidal
I'm the rebel when I yell, you all know, ask Billy Idol
Son of a bitch 'cause he a son and you a bitch (uh-huh)
Me die for you, girl, go dick your own bitch (what?)

Writing rhymes is all that they want to do (uh, say what?) uh-huh, uh-huh
They don't gotta do anything else (they don't gotta do)
Uh-huh, what? Huh, what? Huh (they don't gotta do anything else, baby, say what?)
If writing rhymes is all that they want to do (uh-huh, uh-huh) uh-huh, uh-huh (uh-huh)
They don't gotta do anything else (check it out, check it out) uh-huh, uh-huh, say what?
Say it one more time, say it one more time (say what, say what? Uh)

If writing rhymes is all that they want to do (uh-huh, huh, uh-huh) (what?)
They don't gotta do anything else (they don't gotta do anything else)
Uh-huh, what? Huh, what? Huh (say what? Baby, what?)
If writing rhymes is all that they want to do, uh-huh, uh-huh (uh-huh, uh-huh, what?)
They don't gotta do anything else (they don't gotta do what?) Uh-huh, uh-huh, say what?
(Check it out, baby, talk to me)

Hear this beat
It's done by me
I do them ill beats, yah know what I'm saying?
People always try to bite me yo
But they can't bite this one
Huh, they might try but you know what
You got to pay a sampling fee if you want to bite me, huh

What?
Like that
Uh, like that
Uh, it's the beat, uh, like that
Ginuwine, uh, like that, uh
Aaliyah, uh, like that, uh
Playa, uh, like that, uh
Big Rob, uh, like that, uh
Big E, uh, like that, uh

Of course, my man M-A-G-O-O 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

Link