Timbaland Know Bout Me Lyrics


Know Bout Me by Timbaland

Featuring: Drake, James Fauntleroy & Jay Z

[Intro: Jay Z]
We gotta sell these niggas the dream, my nigga
It's like Walt Disney around this bitch

[Verse 1: Timbaland]
You're in the presence of the real
Can't fathom where I'm at, baby, pop another pill
In a whole another reel
If you want to make a movie, let me know
It's a whole another film
I suggest you get your dress for the Golden Globes
What you know about Tim?
Top down, the Aventador, 4 AM
On the sunset strip
Trying to get high to sunset, baby don't trip
Hollywood lights, Miami nights
I'm on a motherfucking binge
Just might go and buy a Benz
Or trade a car for your friends
Oh yeah, we playing with them M's

[Hook: Timbaland]
Riding down Collins with my entourage following
Just left SoHo headed to the Go-Go
Lap dance for the girls
Let her put her hands on the curves
You ain't about that life, you scurred
Ah, baby, you scurred like skrrt to the crib
What you know about the kid?
What you know bout me? What you know bout me?
What you know bout me? What you know bout me?
Not a muthafukin thing, not a muthafukin thing
Not a muthafukin thing, not a muthafukin thing

[Verse 2: Drake]
I just got back home, 40 days on vacation
No one killing the game, shit is all for the taking
W-w-w-with the stutter
Am I being mistaken?
I'm a s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-star in the making
Who you said was the man? What the fuck is a deal?
Really do it the best, I'm DJ Khaled for real
Got my thumb on the pulse, got impeccable timing
If they forgot about my worth, I got a check to remind 'em
Got some things on the wrist, Cartier with the diamonds
If this was 10 years ago I would've went diamond
I been singing and rapping I make a killing in both
If i had to choose a Jackson man I'm feeling like Bo
Fresh down to the socks, team look like the Raiders
I don't take shit for granted, I'd like to thank my creator
I'm coming back on you haters
I'm 'bout to put this bitch on her back and get back to you later
Man, whats up

[Hook: Timbaland]

[Outro: James Fauntleroy]
Imagine straight from work to the plane, ain't no baggage claim
Don't need to change your clothes, girl, or your last name
Motherfuckers want to act like I'm [?]
If you want to be a star, girl you need a co-star
Got some niggas we can call up, babe
Now they want to know who you are and how you got there
Girl, I can try to care, oh, get you out of here
You and all this gold on me
On a plane going home, not as you want
What you motherfuckers know about me?

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