Ôëàã Âåëèêîáðèòàíèè Øêîëà àíãëèéñêîãî ÿçûêà îíëàéí ¹1

Ãëàâíàÿ>Òåêñòû ïåñåí>Timbaland

Òåêñòû ïåñåí Timbaland, ñëîâà ïåñåí áåñïëàòíî (÷àñòü 4)

Çäåñü âû ìîæåòå íàéòè òåêñòû ïåñåí Timbaland, ñëîâà ïåñåí áåñïëàòíî.

 

Òåêñòû ïåñåí:

1-10 11-20 21-30 31-40

The Way I Are

{Instrumental}
Verse 1: Timbaland
I ain't got no money
I ain't got no car to take you on a date
I can't even buy you flowers
But together we'll be the perfect soulmates
Talk to me girl

Bridge: Keri Hilson
Oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me
If we touch, you can still touch my love, it's free
We can work without the perks just you and me
Thug it out 'til we get it right

Chorus: Keri Hilson & (Timbaland)
Baby if you strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are
(I'm about to strip and I want it quick
Can you handle me the way you are?)
I don't need the G's or the car keys
Baby I like you just the way you are
Let me see ya strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like, I like, I like

Verse 2: Timbaland
I ain't got no Visa
I ain't got no Red American Express
We can't go nowhere exotic
It don't matter 'cause I'm the one that loves you best
Talk to me girl

Bridge 2: Keri Hilson
Oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me
If we go touch, you can still touch my love, it's free
We can work without the perks just you and me
Thug it out 'til we get it right

Chorus: Keri Hilson & (Timbaland)
Baby if you strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are
(I'm about to strip and I want it quick
Can you handle me the way you are?)
I don't need the G's or the car keys
Baby I like you just the way you are
Let me see ya strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are

Verse 3: D.O.E.
Baby girl, I don't got a huge ol' house I rent a room in a house
Listen baby girl, I ain't got a motorboat but I can float ya boat
So listen baby girl, once you get a dose of D.O.E. you gon' want some mo'
So listen baby girl, when I make it I want you back, want you back, yeah

Verse 3:Rapper-{only in the music video}
With my money in the luthe right fillin in
And its really not quite Louise Alison
Your body ain't Pamalem Anderson
Its a struggle just to get you in the camera film
But listen baby girl
Before I let you losse a pound
How bout' make a cop
So listen baby girl
I love you just the way you are
The way you are

Bridge 2: Keri Hilson
Oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me
If we go touch, you can still touch my love, it's free
We can work without the perks just you and me
Thug it out 'til we get it right

Chorus: Keri Hilson & (Timbaland)
Baby if you strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are
(I'm about to strip and I want it quick
Can you handle me the way you are?)
I don't need the G's or the car keys
Baby I like you just the way you are
Let me see ya strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are

Chorus: Keri Hilson & (Timbaland)
Baby if you strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like you just the way you are
(I'm about to strip and I want it quick
Can you handle me the way you are?)
I don't need the G's or the car keys
Baby I like you just the way you are
Let me see ya strip, you can get a tip
'Cause I like, I like, I like!

 

To My

[tim] it don’t stop
[nas] can’t stop
[tim] say what?
[nas] play your parts
[tim] uh-huh, it don’t stop
[nas] nas esco’
[tim] say what? huh, uh-huh
[tim] uh-huh, it don’t stop
[tim] uh, uh-huh, uh, uh, uh
[tim] it don’t stop, what?
[nas] yea yea, brave-hearts
[tim] guess what y’all? check it

Verse one: nas

I, splash y’all dudes with gats I use
Ice dangle off my chest cause my cash improve
Nice knuckle game, chip-toothed, way of buck and change
I want the dough, fuck the fame
Already made history, y’all can have that, that ain’t shit to me
About to have my own ascap, and that’s that
And plus a rotisserie, instead of kenny rogers
And benihana’s, y’all can eat, plenty at nas’
Buffet of lobsters, dressed in esco’ boxers
With honies that sex so proper, best flow since rakim
Liver, personification of drama
Describe my, characteristics, murder co-signer
Some will smoke embalmin fluid and vomit to it
I’m straight chronic, yo it’s atomic how I blew up
Same ol’ g, since I rocked kangol’s, lee’s
Nothin changed but my bankroll, still jig to the ankles

Chorus: nas

Please, to my niggaz
To my bitches, to my gangsters
To my riders, to my niggaz
To my bitches, to my niggaz
To my riders, to my gangsters
To my bitches, to my niggaz
And fly assholes, to my niggaz
To my bitches, timbaland and esco’

[mad skillz]
Yo, yo, we rippin tracks, it’s like beatin beats with bats
Watchin crews change the views when the heat in they back
If you hear a click, trust me, you wouldn’t hear clack
If you push it up front, I got no choice, but to pull it back
Your rhymes don’t faze me, I’m above em; half y’all raps is
Born retarded, now you out here tryin to get rid of em
You should be sick of it, I posess no flaws
That’s from the man that made your head nod til you lick-ed his balls
Verses I spit em, when it’s my turn to get em, I got hot flows
I only do shows for burn victims
So cock this mic, and bust out your back, kill you
And then they gonna blame me for fuckin up rap
Who’s fuckin with that? skillz and esco’, it’s on
When you speak in my direction, watch your tone
From q-b to v-a, can’t count the blocks we own
It’s locked and sewn I repeat nigga, watch your tone

Chorus

[timbaland]
Yo commmmmme see
The big man with the diamonds and the fly bentleys
Ladies loooooovve me; niggaz say
"timbaland’s really rappin, what the fuck is up b? "
Jeallllllousy
I kill niggaz with seven thangs, most they jackin beats
I’m a eight digit niiggy
Maybe I just rebuild titanic and send that out to see
What?

Chorus

 

Up Jumps Da Boogie

Da boogie, da boogie, da boogie, da boogie
Like dat
Up jumps
Da boogie, da boogie, da boogie, da boogie
Like dat
Up jumps
Da boogie, da boogie, da boogie, da boogie
Like dat
Up jumps
Da boogie, da boogie, da boogie, da boogie
Like dat
Up jumps

Verse 1: magoo

Mag and double-ooh came to move your body
M-c old school like lodi dodi
When you hear up jumps da boogie
Dance till you can’t and shake your cookie
People to the left like mag to def
People to the right need to clean your breath
Bigger than my butt, pulled out some cheese
We the best on the scene since the three degrees
Aachoo sneeze
Cool like the breeze
Me and timbaland two master p’s
I hope you bout it
Cause I been bout it
South on the rise, v-8 bout it bout it (uuuh)
Driven in my ’89 mercury
Record label don’t you try to carry me
Got some of that project in me
Get dem flashback, you besta all flee

Verse 2: timbaland

I’m the dope producer in the industry
I’m tired of producers bitin’ on my beats
Baby, thats cool, I ain’t got no beef
But you must pay me producers fee
I am the man with the ill ass sound
I got all the execs saying I love that sound
Timbaland was next on the agenda
A house, some stocks, three zorts for the winter
Don’t y’all sappy fools get mad at me
Because I became a millionaire in a year times g
I thank God for blessing me
I give all my thanks to the all mighty
Now I’m just chillin in my house in rohb beach
Now it’s time to catch a plane to n-y-c
This is the remix to up jumps da boogie
Boogie, woogie, woogie
Oogie, oogie, oogie

Verse 3: missy

M-c’s mad at me
But you better get back
I’m bout to ratta-tat-tat
Tiggy-tigga-tat
Lay me flat on my back
In fact, I interact and make the track turn phat
You heard that
Have it, give it to me daddy
Cut it like confetti
I know y’all said mother uuh wasn’t ready
You back in the studio, yeah I got you sweatin
Timbaland my man, chica my man
Beep beep
In the caravan, there go my man
Magoo, what you got plans for pullin down your pants?
So magoo know dat, why you trippin like dat?
Is it pissed
I make a list, of those who diss
Who try to be me cause my style sickening
He-huh
Yeah and my phone’s ringing
Bdadadrrrrrrrrrr..mmmm
Gone

Chorus:

Up jumps da boogie
Boogie jumps me (say what? )
Up jumps da boogie
Boogie jumps me (say what? )
Up jumps da boogie
Boogie jumps me (say what? )
Up jumps da boogie
Boogie jumps me (say what? )

Verse 4: magoo

Verse number two
Two verse rhyme
When I get greens, I gets a dime
Peace to god, my neice, to mario
Y’all don’t know nuthin bout jamario
Huckle berry finn
I’m country and I’m thin
They make rock eat and buy my black benz
Hook it up with tens with candy coat
Me and cheech and chong rope, but still smoke
Smell like butter
Salt n’ pepa push me
How to be a player squeezin on your tushy
Mag in a row of all wannabee’s
When wimbledon drank all the teas
Eating rice-a-roni with toni toni tone
Keep cindy crawford, to me she’s to boney
See another rain, unless you know missy
Clown suit on so don’t you dare diss me

Verse 5: timbaland

Now I’m gonna make my rap only eight bar
On this track maganoo’s the star
One of my favorite rapper’s nas escobar
I listen to his tape driving in my car
Now let me get back into the groove
Tap the person standing next to you
Tell him or she to move side to side
And tell them to keep the party live to live

Verse 6: missy

Up jumps da boogie
Boogie jumps me
Got to move my knees straight down to my feet
Down to my hands, clap, clap
Tell me where the party at? where we boogie at?
Up jumps da boogie
Boogie my flow
Yo-ziggy-yo timbaland here we go
Y’all to slow to make this kinda doe
Shoot you don’t know, shoot you don’t know

Chorus

 

We at It Again

[lil’ man] (timbaland)
Bounce!
Get crunk, get crunk, get crunk (ladies)
Bounce wit’ me, bounce wit’ me (fellas, uh, uh)
Get crunk, get crunk, get crunk (now ladies)
Bounce wit’ me, bounce wit’ me (freaky fellas, ah)
Get crunk, get crunk, get crunk (now ladies)
Bounce wit’ me, bounce wit’ me (freaky fellas)
Get crunk, get crunk, get crunk (freaky, freaky now ladies)
Freaky, freaky, freaky

[timbaland]
Timbaland never walk in a place
He can’t walk out of
Gettin’ rude in the place
With a gun in my waist
I just might pop out slugs
With a straight arm
Bullets stomp through your phat farm till the animals jump out of
No justifications
While my song question like that jigga what?
I’m the cause that the thugs gon’ fight
In the club so tight, y’all ky’d up
Sometimes I fall, on cars I just hop right up
With the drop top and the top dropped
And your mouth drops like
"what the {fuck? "
Only deal with conjunction chicks
When I’m looking to hit
They give me butt
Now who da man, say timbaland!

[static](lil’ man)
Now off the top, off the top
(we at it again)
From the candy store to the coffee shop
(we at it again)
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
(we at it again)
To the one’s at the club
To the people on the floor
(we at it again)
Hit in one mo’ gin
Now say off the top, off the top
(we at it again)
From the candy store to the coffee shop
(we at it again)
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
(we at it again)
To the people at the club
To the one’s on the floor
(we at it again, at it again)

[magoo]
Get a fucking watch
Like brat let me see what to hit for
45 g’s what I spit for
Get more money than y’all
Born to ball, go to the mall
Take dat off the rack
Ain’t gotta shop at rack n sack
I’m a man with a plan to jack
Jack your car, jack your ice
Jack your house, jack your life
Rock ma with a bud tonight
You can have the fame, gimme your loot
All your tools, all your jewels
Mag a fool
I’mma blast till I can’t blast
High from penicillin
Not willing to pass out till y’all cash out
With a mask out man i’mma break the bank
Drive through town in an army tank
Y’all wanna see me
I’m in virginia watching tv in 3d

[static](lil’ man)
Now off the top, off the top
(we at it again)
From the candy store to the coffee shop
(we at it again)
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
(we at it again)
To the one’s at the club
To the people on the floor
(we at it again)
Hit in one mo’ gin
Now say off the top, off the top
(we at it again)
From the candy store to the coffee shop
(we at it again)
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
(we at it again)
To the people at the club
To the one’s on the floor
(we at it again, at it again)

[sebastian]
Listen to me
Sebastian so south that my house got candy doors
Man I’ll pop a grown chick to mandy moore
Far from a 6-1 clique dropping yours
Slowmo, chrome wheels still riding fourth
Keep chicks stationary like I’m leaving on tour
Palms grip a snub nose I ain’t leaving poor
(whoa! boy give me more)
See I be dippin’ and poppin’ the top and
These fools clockin’ and blockin’
These ladies lovin’ the dough
My youngins lovin’ the flow
South boys back on the roll
Ladies get back on the floor
Fellas keep throwin’ them bowls
This how a party should go

[static](lil’ man)
(in background "get crunk! get crunk! we at it again!")
Now off the top, off the top
From the candy store to the coffee shop
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
To the one’s at the club
To the people on the floor
Hit in one mo’ gin
Now say off the top, off the top
From the candy store to the coffee shop
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
To the people at the club
To the one’s on the floor
(we at it again, at it again)

Get crunk, get crunk...
We at it again
Get crunk, get crunk...
We at it again

[static](lil’ man)
Now off the top, off the top
From the candy store to the coffee shop
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
To the one’s at the club
To the people on the floor
Hit in one mo’ gin
Now say off the top, off the top
From the candy store to the coffee shop
To your girl next door, to your boy next door
To the people at the club
To the one’s on the floor

 

What Cha Know About This

[timbaland]
You see? I think it’s time for me put it down..
.. for my females, hahah
I’ma let my females shine on this track
You see? I ain’t biased
I ain’t racist either
So i’ma let uhh.. mocha bring it in

[mocha]
The one boss bitch, not on that horse shit
Honey I wanna score with, money, I’m all for it
Speak the raw shit, they on the floor quick
Prepare to be surprised, if you think I’m a poor chick
Got off the wall shit, who could be more thick?
Plus I can flip, rough-up, or flatten out, four bricks
As for the mic, I can break flow out, or either bless em
My style is my own, and a shorty, can’t test it
So y’all - ramble on, i’ma get my gamble on
Ceram’ handle-arm, while y’all scramble on
Want to battle? it’s on, I’ll take you on anywhere
I’ll take you on a bus, on a boat, or up in the air
I’ll take you on with the gat, I’ll take you on on the track
I’ll take yo’ ass on a trip, and you never come back
Though this a freestyle, these styles ain’t free
When I’m done, better believe, they got a pile for me

Chorus: timbaland and babe blue (repeat 2x)

What cha know about this, ha? you don’t know
Lemme show you bout this, ha? we gon’ blow
We don’t go without hits, ha? get the dough
You can never doubt this, ha? ha?

[mocha]
Y’all go ’head and yap on, i’ma keep rap strong
Talk but don’t act on what you rap on (say what? )
I speak facts to beat clacks, and lead tracks
Heed that, relax, feedback? keep that
Bet-ta ease back, never see me slack
Break your kneecaps - then, have you do three laps
Tryin to see this half a mil, y’all - dingy stacks
For - weed in sacks, tote - ki’s to crack
Wonder why they can’t keep they eyes off me?
Y’all chicks ain’t 8, I’m a dime plus 3
Got a 6? I got a stack
Got a whip? I got a jet
Got a clip? I got a tec
That’s why you not a threat
Wanna know how you could be down too?
Can not do, make em say "ahhh, oohh"
Been through it, put too much into it
And writin so long, I ran out of pen fluid

Chorus {except last line

[timbaland] babe blue

[babe blue]
Y’all chicks assed out, babe blue’s here
Shook out your mind, cause my debut’s near
All y’all demo chicks see me when you master yours
I surpass you whores, then I smash your broads
Shorty, don’t get your hopes high, praise the most high
Babe blue, livin loca
I crush all those, small hoes, what?
My go-to-the-store clothes is better than your wardrobe
You ain’t seein mine, I walk right in the club
You one of them chicks that be in line
Me? studded out, ice flooded out
Bitch you ain’t nice - please, cut it out
Bronx to the death, we gon’ spit raw
Timbaland got beats, what you talkin shit for?
Forget yours, moch’ and blue, comin through
Bystorm, z man, tell me what you gon’ do?

Chorus

[timbaland] it ain’t over!

[babe blue]
Y’all chicks talk a lot, now you wanna hate me?
Moch’ and blue, cagney and lacey
Start the biddin wars at 1.2
We gonna show all of y’all what one joint do
You wanna get the third degree, cause you never heard of me?
See thugs murder me, deep blood burgundy?
Hell nah, see I’m tryin to get my mail ma
But y’all chicks didn’t know, so I had to tell y’all

Chorus

[timbaland]
Doubt this, uh uh uh, whaaat?
Let it ride, uh uh, uh-uh uh-uh
Tonight (1 life 2 live) uh uh, uh-uh uh-uh
Uh uh, uh-uh uh-uh
(1 life 2 live baby) uh uh, uh-uh uh-uh
Uh uh, uh-uh uh-uh, 1 life 2 live
What what? uh uh uh uh
What cha know about this, ha?

 

Who Am I

[Timbaland talking:]
Da Da Da Da Da Da
Yes yes yes yes yes yes
It's me again baby, Timbaland
And uh, we doin somethin like dis
Hear da beat?
Uh
(clapping)
Say what?
Thats right
Thank you, thank you, thank you
(laughing)Uh right now, Ima bring a special guest in
He gon' rip it for me, like this, check it out

[Twista]
Who am I, Nigga wid tha blunt, steady trippin, sippin on the concoction,
with tha gun cocktin
Drum knockin, gotta get off
Bitches and killas in the front watchin
Flowin with like a finna studda some
Betta come off a butta ton, brotha run, I hope he said he were
Ima flow until my belly hurt
Pimp nigga rockin on tha stage an rock on in the petty shirt
Let it ruff, ooh
Feels like anotha one
Who you be? Mr. Shystie
The one who make you frown up like the lemon in my ice tea
The muthafucka most likely
To get a tuba with the opposition in my position
I break em off when I give em tha heat
Steady re' for rollin
Bullets body decomposion
I dismember the weak on the Timbaland beat
You remember the beat
Conversation we had
When my adrinallin was rushin
Check yo brakes and knee pads
When the twis to get tha bus in
Bodys gon' get rushed in
I can make em hit tha dance flo
Brothas, bitches, and hustlers
I get up in the guts homie, never phoney
Hitta wigga when he run up on me
Yall muthafuckas still don't know me
Let em' learn slowly

[Chorus:]2x
Who you be?
Im tha one that stay high
Center maka up tha party, rockin bodys
with tha thugga hands up in the sky
neva shy he's fly
Who am i, who you be?
I'm the one's gon' get buck
T-straight from the Chi
Ribal, homosydal, everybody duck
With tha party up and pimp struck
T-N-T now I say who am I

Who you be? Who am I?
The one who's surrounded by the wood
500 wid the ribs stickin through the hood
Up to no good thats why'd stay they misunderstood
And Im always in tha mix of some shits
Scoop a shawty an she thick
And tha bitch getts grip in them hips
Putta dick on tha lips top it doggie style, she my homie gal
So I tricked on that bitch
Now who you be?
The one who's on tha dance floor
Sex gon be one of tha mass hoes
Freak on a bad hoe
you's could really wanna flash gold
Turn a hater to a sass hoe
Play an ballin up at Cape Town, strippin went down
Study, tippin off of CDs an Tapes
Though see niggas see Gs to take
Run up to tha car, got no thangs
They got CDs to break, no easy pace
Who you be?
The crime cause other obituary an uligy
Photo stank and yall be who to see
Only smokin it wid you and me
Lets go hang out where tha booty be
I was on sumthin, no frontin
Yello wide ol' belly in the po funkin
Grinnin while up in the curb
Wanna journey for herb
Always tellin somebody to smoke somethin
True indeed

Chorus 2x

The one thats flowin fluently
Make yo baby say goo to me
Whatcha did to her
Didn't ask why I hit her for
Cause the game like liturature
Get it Get it gurl
I don't know what you was waitin on
But if you aint wid a partna
This young monsters a fly guy
Shake a lil bit of dat body
We gon party till we sky high
To my playas an soldiers, shady niggas, young thugs and strap hoes,
pimps strikin fees and red bones
Ghetto fees and Gs an MC's for the rifols
The one that be kickin off air time
>From sunrise ta bedtime
All of yall need ta know me, the one an only
Pimp slach tingin twista from tha Chi
Makin compotition die slowly
Who am I?

Chorus 2x

[Timbaland]
Ha ha ha ha
Yall didn't think that I would do it again twice did ya
Ha ha
I do it like that, I put it down
For tha 98 or TNT
Thang ya know what Im sayin
Timbaland and Twista
Yall fools couldn't recognize could ya?
I put it down for all parts of the area
We out

 

Wit Yo Bad Self Ft. Mad Skillz

[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

1-10 11-20 21-30 31-40

 

 


Òåêñòû ïåñåí Timbaland, ñëîâà ïåñåí áåñïëàòíî (÷àñòü 4)
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