Do It Again
Jay-Z f/ Beanie Sigel & Amil

Intro:
Rocafella
Ya'll know what this is
We givin' ya'll five seconds to put your drinks down and report to the dance floor immediately
All the busta, we givin' ya'll five seconds to get close a exit
It's about to get real ugly in here
Five seconds is up
Let's go!

Throw the hands up (uh, uh, uh)
Throw the hands up (Ladies)
Throw the hands up (Fellas)
Throw the hands up (Mac)

Verse 1:
(Beanie Sigel)
You know how Mac come through on the club top
Everybody real deep on the thug tip
Cop Cris, spray the club on the thug tip
Cop frisks suits, snub in the club quick
Told ya'll, real high when I come through
You can try if you want to
You can die if you want to
We hittin' yours on the floor
Whole crew be wild
Chick, back that thang up like Juvenile
When my peeps come to spend a dime apiece
You know Mac come through with a line of freaks
Every chick on the hit, 9 at least
We hittin' yours on the floor, while you grindin' freaks
Whole squad get it down like this
Whole squad buying rounds of Cris
Whole squad got they crowns on wrist
Whole squad got a pound of twist
Whole squad got a pound to spit
In case a clown wanna flip
Mac never slip in a club
Told ya'll, ⁴/₅ in the club
If you wanna draw, then the blood they can drip in the club
You know how it get in the club
You know how I be
All high in VIP, rollin' up to BIG
An' he all liquored up talkin' it
Til his man gotta come pick him up
Got bitches in the back bouncin' to "Jigga What"
You got your hands up and I ain't even stick ya'll up
Throw the hands up
Throw the hands up

Chorus 1:
12 am: On the way to the club
1 am: DJ made it a rub
2 am: Now I'm gettin' with her
3 am: Now I'm splittin' with her
4 am: At the Waffle House
5 am: Now we at my house
6 am: Now I'm diggin' her out
6:15: Now I'm kickin' her out
7 am: I'ma call my friends
12 am: We gonna do it again
We gon', we gon', we gonna do it again

Verse 2:
(Jay-Z)
How the fuck you gonna talk about MCs on our hill
When we just copped them thangs
Homey, the chromy wheels
Both arms is chunky the sleeves on chill
Any given time's a 100 Gs in ya grill
Don't talk to me 'bout MCs got skills
He's alright, but he's not real
Jay-Z's that deal, with Sigs in the field
Never fear for war, hug, squeeze that steel
You got a flow, that's cool wit me
You got a lil' dough, that's cool wit me
You got a lil' cars, lil' jewelries
But none of ya'll motherfuckers could fool with me
You know the wrist frost bit minus two degrees
'Bout as blue as the sea, the way I maneuver the V
Hat cocked, can't see his eyes
Who could it be?
Wit that new blue Yankee on
Who but me
Shift two million, then I blew to three
Then I skated to four, 'fore I went on tour
I came back an' it's plain
Ya'll niggas ain't rappin' the same
Fuck the flow, ya'll jackin' our slang
I seen the shit happen to Kane
Three cuts in your eyebrow, tryin' to wild out
The game is our, we'll never foul out
Ya'll just better hope we gracefully bow out
Throw you hands up ladies, fellas, bustas, hustlers, everybody
Throw the hands up

Chorus:
(Amil)
12 am: On the way to the club
1 am: 'bout to shake the butt
2 am: Now I'm checkin' the mix
3 am: Now he buyin' me drinks
4 am: Exit the club
5 am: Think he gettin' some butt
6 am: Nigga still ain't bust
6:15: For real, get up
7 am:  Gotta call my friends
12 am: I'ma do it again
Uh, uh, I'ma do it again
12 am: I'ma do it again