Video musicale

Timbaland - Know Bout Me ft. Drake, Jay-Z & James Fauntleroy
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In primo piano

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Timbaland
Timbaland
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Drake
Drake
Composer
James Fauntleroy
James Fauntleroy
Composer
Timothy Mosley
Timothy Mosley
Composer
J. Harmon
J. Harmon
Composer
S. Carter
S. Carter
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Timbaland
Timbaland
Producer
J. Harmon
J. Harmon
Producer

Testi

We gotta sell these bitches the dream, my nigga Niggas like Walt Disney around this bitch 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 at the 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 Ridin' 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 muthafuckin thing, not a muthafuckin thing Not a muthafuckin thing, not a muthafuckin thing I just got back home, 40 days on vacation No one killing the game, shit is all for the taking What the fuck did I stutter? am I being mistaken? I'm a s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-star in the makin' 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 timin' 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 nigga would've went diamond I been singing and rapping I make a killin' in both If I had to choose a Jackson man I'm feelin' like Bo Fresh down to the socks, team look like the Raiders I don't take this shit for granted, I'd like to thank my creator I'm coming b-b-b-b-b-b-b-back on you haters I'm 'bout to put this bitch on her back and get back to you later Man, whats up Ridin' 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 muthafuckin thing, not a muthafuckin thing Not a muthafuckin thing, not a muthafuckin thing 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 bitches 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?
Writer(s): Shawn Carter, Jerome Harmon, Timothy Mosley, James Fauntleroy, Aubrey Graham, Chris Godbey Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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