Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Timbaland
Timbaland
Vocals
Keri Hilson
Keri Hilson
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keri Hilson
Keri Hilson
Songwriter
Garland Mosley
Garland Mosley
Songwriter
Nate Hills
Nate Hills
Songwriter
Timothy Mosley
Timothy Mosley
Songwriter
Timothy Mosley
Timothy Mosley
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Danja
Danja
Producer
Demacio Castellon
Demacio Castellon
Recording Engineer
Marcella Araica
Marcella Araica
Mixing Engineer
Miguel Bustamante
Miguel Bustamante
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Two step
Let me talk to you, girl
(What?)
I'm in your part of town
I call your phone and you're nowhere to be found
You do this every time
You be M.I.A. every single time
[Verse 2]
The part that kills me
You rather chill with your friends instead of me
But I ain't gon' be no clown
I guess I call you next time I'm in your town
And you say to me
[Verse 3]
So what, I was out with my friends
I'm a grown woman
It's the weekend, ooh
So what if I don't answer my phone
What if I'm not alone
I'm with him
What's it to you?
[Verse 4]
I need to get out
You, you, you are killing me
You're killing me, you're killing me
And I, just wanna get out
You, you, you are killing me
You're killing me, you're
What you wanna do, do, do?
What you wanna do, do, do?
[Verse 5]
I cannot escape
No matter what I do
Can't get away from you, oh
Call me everyday
And that there ain't never cool
Gettin' on my nerves
I think it's time you knew
[Verse 6]
Only gave you my number 'cause
Drinks made you cuter plus
You were lookin' sad and lonely, ooh
But that's all it was
Just put you in the game
And here you go complainin'
What's up with you?
[Verse 7]
I need to get out
You, you, you are killing me
You're killing me, you're killing me
And I, just wanna get out
You, you, you are killing me
You're killing me, you're
What you wanna do, do, do?
What you wanna do, do, do?
[Verse 8]
Like whoa, lil' mama
It's the second time I'm callin' your number
I ain't chasin', I ain't even no runner
Don't you know I push the Hummer in the summer, huh?
How you hard to be reached?
I can put you where you hard to be reached
Black sand on the balls of your feet
You can scream, ain't nobody gon' be asleep
This your own private beach
And when it comes to sex
Just a little bit of love and a little bit of that
Maybe push it back where your ribs is at
Share a bowl of crunch berries, how real is that?
I'm just jokin' of course
I'm tryna put your sex game back on course
If you feelin' dry like you don't get moist
If you ever get a minute
Holler at your boy
Written by: Floyd Nathaniel Hills, Garland Mosley, Keri Hilson, Timbaland
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