Timbaland
Are We Cuttin’
[Intro: Pastor Troy]
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here, girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here, girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here, girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha, yeah, girl, oh

[Chorus: Candace Jackson & Pastor Troy]
Ooh, baby, what's your name?
Ooh, are you wearing Bugle Boy jeans? (Hell nah)
Ooh, I heard you was from Atlanta
Ooh, but, baby, please excuse my manners
I just wanna know, are we cuttin'?
Are we cuttin'? Are we cuttin'?
Ooh, hell yeah, hell, hell-hell yeah
Ooh, she won't see tomorrow if I don't cut tonight (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Pastor Troy]
Friday night (Yeah)
Ballin', holmes (Yeah)
Got a n***a smelling fresh as a rose (Uh)
Grab my kicks and tuck my clothes
Sharp as a knife
And this is the life, Pastor
Yeah, tell me how ya love that
Let a n***a see that pussy cat, where you at? (Uh)
Dance floor (Yeah)
That's my shit (Yeah, yeah)
Baby girl, let your hair down
Show a n***a what you workin' with, twerkin' with
I am low-key
You don't wanna leave? (C'mon, baby)
You don't wanna go back to the suite (C'mon)
Let you caress my feet, huh? Now what you wanna know?
[Chorus: Candace Jackson & Pastor Troy]
Ooh, baby, what's your name?
Ooh, are you wearing Bugle Boy jeans? (Hell nah)
Ooh, I heard you was from Atlanta
Ooh, but, baby, please excuse my manners
I just wanna know, are we cuttin'?
Are we cuttin'? Are we cuttin'?
Ooh, hell yeah, hell, hell-hell yeah
Ooh, she won't see tomorrow if I don't cut tonight

[Verse 2 - Pastor Troy]
Off the chain (Damn)
Damn, boo (Where you been?)
Where ya been all my lifetime?
Let me fuck ya 'til the sun shine (C'mon), uh-huh (Uh-huh)
What I do? (Woah)
Mind my biz (C'mon)
No, I can't take you home with me
Baby girl, it is what it is, showbiz
Saturday morning (Damn)
Damn, I'm weak (Yeah)
Knew what's up when you came to the room
Talkin about getting some sleep (She was)
The truth (Haha)
Shorty got loose (She got loose)
So pretty, but all I needed
Is a pretty red substitute (C'mon)
[Chorus: Candace Jackson & Pastor Troy]
Ooh, baby, what's your name?
Ooh, are you wearing Bugle Boy jeans? (Hell nah)
Ooh, I heard you was from Atlanta
Ooh, but, baby, please excuse my manners
I just wanna know, are we cuttin'?
Are we cuttin'? Are we cuttin'?
Ooh, hell yeah, hell, hell-hell yeah
Ooh, she won't see tomorrow if I don't cut tonight

[Verse 3 - Ms. Jade]
What you talkin'?
I bring heat when it's hawkin'
'Cause I can't stand a man that don't understand
I'm weighing kilos and grams, the bitch with the upper hand
I'm 'bout to kill it
You dealing with the realest
Fuck the strawberries and chocolate, Hennessy and a condom
Save the kissin' and grindin', it's all about the timing
I really like vice-versa
But tonight's much worser, and, um
Philly chicky, only travel for the best of men
Had me out Atlanta just to see you on your boat in Timbs
Pastor Troy
Won't you just pass the boy
In a split second I'm answering all questions
You dummies are still confessin' how much money make you undress us, so tell me
[Chorus: Candace Jackson & Pastor Troy]
Ooh, baby, what's your name?
Ooh, are you wearing Bugle Boy jeans? (Hell nah)
Ooh, I heard you was from Atlanta
Ooh, but, baby, please excuse my manners
I just wanna know, are we cuttin'?
Are we cuttin'? Are we cuttin'?
Ooh, hell yeah, hell, hell-hell yeah
Ooh, she won't see tomorrow if I don't cut tonight