Lyrics It's Your Night - Timbaland, Magoo, SiN

It's Your Night

Cmon, ah, cmon, ah, bounce a little, what, cmon, yeah
Ha, you didnt think I was comin like that did you?
Whooo!
From the corner to the dice where we rollin at For all my homies gettin nice off that cognac
To ghetto chicks who appreciate the cadillac
When it flip to the normal color like mike was back
Nike hats, slightly above your nose and neck
Chucks and slacks, seperated from gores and tecs
Chicks in packs, please, let your weave relax
Im so gangster with this rap bouncers hold me back
Hey g, I feel you black
But let me get up in this club and show you how I act
Im a fool when it comes to these party girls
Im a fool when it comes to this party world
Now ask yourself, now who do beats like me?
I was the one that gave you «hey papi»
Im like tupac, all eyes on me Got niggas messed up in the industry, but its ok Its your night (yeah), no need to act uptight (uh)
Go and grab somebody (go head), go and grab somebody
And be real
(and just dance a bit, cmon and just dance a bit)
Do what you feel
(uh huh, and just dance a bit, cmon and just dance a bit
Must be the first of the month
Mag get up on the track and Im rappin drunk
Yall wanna battle we can spit for days
Let up sixteen bars like mayo-naise
Swisher in my mouth, shower cap on my dome
Aint in the studio, little shorty Im home
Pass the phone, Im a call all va Tell sin, call brooke and bring some alize
Got in the game like what, its over man (say what?)
I spit vodka, aint sober man (say what?)
Im a bigger guy, need extra pay
Give me a bed so I can lay in my escalade
You could be black, puerto rican or dominican
Room 219, I dont care, send it in Im a jiggy guy, ride one plus the five
Make it a six, big bad son of a bitch
Sin got the alize from home
Give me lifestyles, put em on my jimmy, its on And peep out my manuscript
Mag and tim party hoes so you gots to strip
And I aint playin games when I heart
And leave mag hangin hard suit with christopher darden
I take about a hour to bust
Chickens wanna get with mag so they makin a fuss
Told em, «simmer down, youre next
Take my headphones, listen to funkmaster flex
Ill be about a minute or less
Stop sittin clothes on, take off your dress»