[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
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