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It's Your Night

[Timbaland talking]

see'mon, ah, see'mon, ah, bounce a little, what, see'mon, yeah

Ha, you didn't think I was comin like that did you?

Whooo!

[Sebastian]

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, separated from Gores and Tecs

Chicks in packs, please, let your weave relax

I'm so gangster with this rap bouncers hold me back

[Timbaland]

Hey G, I feel you black

But let me get up in this club and show you how I act

I'm a fool when it comes to these party girls

I'm 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"

I'm like Tupac, all eyes on me

Got niggas messed up in the industry, but it's ok

[Chorus: Storm & Shelby (Timbaland)]

It's 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, see'mon and just dance a bit)

Do what you feel

(Uh huh, and just dance a bit, see'mon and just dance a bit

[Magoo]

Must be the first of the month

Mag get up on the track and I'm rappin drunk

why'all want to battle we can spit for days

Let up sixteen bars like mayo-naise

Swisher in my mouth, shower cap on my dome

Ain't in the studio, little shorty I'm home

Pass the phone, I'm a call all VA

Tell Sin, call Brooke and bring some Alize

[Sin]

Got in the game like what, it's over man (say what?)

I spit vodka, ain't sober man (say what?)

I'm 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 don't care, send it in

I'm a jiggy guy, ride one plus the five

Make it a six, big bad son of a bitch

[Chorus: x 2]

[Magoo]

Sin got the Alize from home

Give me Lifestyles, put 'em on my jimmy, it's on

And peep out my manuscript

Mag and Tim party hoes so you gots to strip

And I ain't playin games when I heart

And leave Mag hangin hard suit with Christopher Darden

I take about a hour to bust

Chickens want to get with Mag so they makin a fuss

Told 'em, "simmer down, you're next

Take my headphones, listen to Funkmaster Flex

I'll be about a minute or less

Stop sittin clothes on, take off your dress"

[Chorus: x 2]

[Timbaland talking to fade]

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written by GARLAND MOSLEY / MELVIN BARCLIFF / TIMOTHY MOSLEY / W. CHARLOTT

Lyrics © Royalty Network, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing

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