Baby Bubba Songtext
von Timbaland & Magoo

It′s the dippy-dippy don now you heard that
Let's take you back, where the original Tim the bird at?
I got shit here to make you down on 12-pack
Call Rudy, tell him hook us up a 20 sack
C′mon, c'mon, c'mon, we ballin′ y′all
Where my cats think you feel me at?
Holla y'all, and when we earn that
They finally let the dish and the pan, then I start with some cash

Let me get to Virginia (VA) link up with Timbaland, now I′m bustin' they ass
Now they callin′ me The Incredible Man, I'ma shit it sick like yeah
And there is one thing to understand
Y′all know what it is and Petey is just what I am
Spit what I spit 'cause I don't give a damn
Spin like just like y′all spin at the mall in blue drawers
On some du-rag, it′s 'bout to be the all that is
New broad, new day, new cars, new motherfuckin′ deal, hey


Hey (c'mon), baby, bubba (c′mon)
If y'all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey, baby, bubba
We lost the music selector
Hey (ha), baby, bubba (who?)
If y′all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey-hey-hey, baby bubba
Well, he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean forward

Check me out in my black trans, I'm dippin' on that man, who that be
Tim-ba-land, now haters wanna get at me
Just because we three brothers dippin′ in the fly ride
He don′t care though, nigga, we just three fly guys
All up in your local mall, pickin' all your local broads
Holla if you wanna get into a local brawl
We the intimidators, y′all intimidated
By our bling-bling ring-ring, and I can't debate it

Lowriders hittin′ on switches
As we pass by ya in sun fire, c'mon
What y′all need to do is throw that shit up (shit up)
For the cool amigos with Tequila in the gut
What y'all know about them Southern girls with them big butts?
What y'all know about them buckshots bustin′ from a truck (yeah, yeah)
That′s that Southern hospitality
The come of the me, the come of the Pete
The come of the 'Goo, the come of the G


Hey (c′mon), baby, bubba (c'mon)
If y′all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey, baby, bubba
We lost the music selector
Hey (ha), baby, bubba (who?)
If y'all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey-hey-hey, baby bubba
Well, he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean forward

Meg spit it ′til I die, fucker
You wit' your label kissin' ass like a damn sucker
Meanwhile, Mag in Virginia in some house shoes, watchin′ the news
Do my album when I′m ready, tell my label to sue
If I got it, I'ma get ′em, it's cornered and sell some water plum
NY to floater while I′m humpin' your daughter
Stayin′ in the French quarter and listen to Juvenile
I like that South shit, all my niggaz is wild

You gotta come up with a new plan, I'm sayin' man
South boys ain′t fuckin′ playin' check the list
We got OutKast and No Limit, and Eightball
Scarface, Ludacris, and Goodie Mob, uh
We do it country, ′cause we proud of this shit
All those that wanna hate on hip-hop can eat a dick
I ain't a thug and I ain′t tryna be
They tryna take my love, man, and it bothered me

Hey (c'mon), baby, bubba (c′mon)
If y'all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey, baby, bubba
We lost the music selector
Hey (ha), baby, bubba (who?)
If y'all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey-hey-hey, baby bubba
Well, he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean forward

Hey (c′mon), baby, bubba (c′mon)
If y'all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey, baby, bubba
We lost the music selector
Hey (ha), baby, bubba (who?)
If y′all feel it, let me hear you say
Hey-hey-hey, baby bubba
Well, he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean forward