[Timbaland]
Yo... dot da dot dot dot party ain`t over
Uh huh what uh huh what?
Dot dot dot da party ain`t over
Diggi do uh huh what? Uh huh what the party ain`t over
Uh huh what yeah what... diggi diggi diggi diggi diggi...
[Magoo]
I`ma kill you all like O.J.
Diss Maganoo for real you must pay
Listen to the way my rap flow delay
His mama named him Clay I`ma call him Clay
Back of the bus, with Rosa Parks
Too much to say, watch my remarks
South to VA, up side to Philly
Y`all be killin me, for real on the really
Recognize the P, when you see he
sport the Kangol with N-I-K-E
Break me off a piece of that, Kit-Kat
You do the horse and make your Gucci wet
Came through the crowd, heard the brother booin
Said real low, `Hey whatcha doin?`
Don`t you know I`ve been rappin on tracks
since back in the days when tapes was eight-track
Relax and jump to it, like Duran Duran
Black as Buckwheat, still get a tan
Go over to your girl, hey what`s yo` number
You and your crew must be Dumb & Dumber
[Timbaland]
Timbaland, uh-huh, understand
Kickin the fly beats for all my fly fans
Not Peter Piper but, Peter Pan
Beat, guaran-guaran, teed to make you dance
People wanna know where I where I get my rhythm
Rhythm, come from, the thing called wisdom
Wisdom is the thing that comes from the dome-dome
when the, clock, strikes, twelve and it`s on
People already already feelin my groove
Now`s the time for, me to show and prove
Now it`s time to get back to my basic method
Record and play play play each segment
*chorus*
Sardines! Hey, and Pork and Beans, ha-hah
Do you know what that means?
It`s twelve o`clock, and the party just don`t stop
(repeat 2X)
Aight?
[Magoo]
When it come to flows you best to re-up
Diss me to my face, get the taste slapped out
Rapped out a hit on the plane out to Spain
My mind go in space when I`m kissin on jane
Can`t Stand the Rain, but, love Missy
I rock with mad funk so my middle finger pissy
Look for me I`m Chico undercover at the Nico
Mag and double-ooh got gas from burrito
Lay you like Frito if you`re white then amigo
In my plaid tuxedo, the rap Al Pacino
Star in Casino, to a veterino
Not Italia-no, but still gambino
Most of y`all rappers can`t do your part
I`ma finish up what you all can`t start
Got no heart I thought on your LP
I`m on your radio and on your TV
*chorus* 2X
