(feat. Static (Playa))
[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 Seapeak(?)
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 wit
[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 Seapeak(?)
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 wit