(Timbaland & Magoo wit' Sin, Ciro Sebastin, and Troy Mitchell) (Timbaland) BEAT CLUB! Untitled, uhh uhh, uhh - YES Uhh uhh, uhh, YES, uhh uhh Uhh uhh Timbaland, uhh, uhh uhh Uhh, uhh uhh - YES, uhh One, two, three, here we go! (Troy Mitchell) Yo, who wanna wreck you with the iller thug, super killer thug You know that thug that's used to doin it out the dub I go Shaft on niggaz, don't make me have to call my killers Staff on niggaz, get bloodbaths for all you niggaz Yo, I ain't tryna talk shit straight up I walk this shit I'm used to bossin shit and offin clips See hood is around my way - they talk often quick To us you spit, and leave that nigga coffin shit See we gang we never bought it in the streets I slang Peeps I train to hustle get it take out names Let me bang and spread it all around the project blocks I'm sick with glocks now bitches get ridiculous jocks Now thug filthy niggaz walkin through your club with blunts Grill with fronts, keep Henny on the spill for months I get trucks from the bitches and the niggaz I crush And figure the last niggaz that fuck with us (Magoo) Yo, Mag never roll with a gun, Mag roll with a two-case Get up in some beef niggaz end up with a screw face Besides that I got a gang of P-town niggaz with court cases And they all gettin life We can be enemies after fuckin your wife, or runnin train on 'em Piss on a slut, let it rain on 'em But I'd rather put my brain on 'em Look at the bitch, she got a frame on 'em Mag hit it then came on 'em "Alias," if you with me you ride Get in the back of the Lex', and be out of your tux Label me "alias" from my respects to crack this case I'm past bein berserk, nigga look at my face I got an ill way of showin my pain Fuck talkin how I'm hurt, Mag take out his brain I'm goin insane and y'all niggaz, hatin my thang Mag the illest nigga spittin, FUCK the simple and plain (Sin) Sin the reason why rap ain't gon' be the same First niggaz speak my name, off with his brain Put the heat to his back, clap his lungs collapse If I would sell, six plat', I'm done with rap How many y'all gotta touch, then found out Sin's too much Uncut, can't touch You remind me, of pussy; you bitch-ass nigga Up North, drawers off, snitch ass nigga (Magoo) Now I'm hangin with superstars, and fuckin them in the cocktail room After the nuttin, sweep 'em out with the broom Mag ghetto as ever but mo' cheddar Used to smoke dub sacks now just pound (?) But I got a sweet tooth for crime but never kill I run with steel, stay in the house, put my dick up in Jill Poppin usin the pill, never did it before I wanna see how it feel, when you fuck wit my skill I make a mil' (?), pussy much fine in weather Fam's wipin they tongues a little Mag run for the street, or for the block Brand new cribs still dissin the pot Some bums take change see Neighbors lookin at Mag strangely Find theyself, hangin from a tree But I'm a real life gleeful "Alias" is next, but that nigga ain't diesel (?) (Troy Mitchell) Yo, I used to keep it on the low when I was younger But now I'm big boss in the game, come let me show you somethin So whatchu need is a tech or a four-five calico with a nose wide And women don't know when to slow slide My A-K in the cut, with my 'dro hidin I keep them hookers holdin my fort, and keep a low vibe I heard the feds hate me cause I'm so live From five o'clock to four-oh-five sellin quarters and dimes Even Magoo got a watch I ain't dumb Ain't no familiars in this place where I'm slingin it from I got wholesale weight, that low-sale weight Or any kind of weight that make my dough flow stright Cause I'm oh so great; real thugs, no fake That's why they down to play me on radio stations and rotations Thugs hate - everything I stand fo', throw hands fo' Make plans fo', roll on yo' camp fo' (Sin) Laid back in the same colored Escalade Run over rappers that test the brake Leave you under the jeep and test your faith Put it in reverse and, crush your face Go to court, tell the judge fuck the case Go to jail, no bail, cut your face Get it right nigga, you dealin with apes I came for the safe now show me the cake, uhh (Sebastin) Listen, as soon I'm on the show you struggle in raps Anticipate nickel plates, man, right where you sat Like a panel nigga under your shirt, picture that How your child's gonna burp when you losin your lap? Hey, I'm bringin the shade, don't floss in the day Niggaz think they so cold like they jewelry okay I'm hittin hoes, respondin like you charmin the dame Crackin up like, "Damn, which one of y'all paid?" A pretty boy got hookers thinkin that the blows don't trade That's the day that the curls slide under the braid I'll give you somethin sharp to raise that line in your fade Different ligaments torn for every round that's sprayed Puttin hoes into groups and spittin them up like Jake Du-rags ain't safe, bullets skip through waves I'll hop drive-thru, pop somethin in Dave I ain't from around yo' way, nigga I'm from V-A