[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 Play
 Back of the bus, with Rosa Parks
 Too much to say, watch my remarks
 South to VA, look psychadelic
 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 sex 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, I'm a fly band
 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 dumb-dumbs
 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 plat 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

 [Timbaland]
 and pork and beans
 Did you know, did you know, uhh, Skillz

 [Mad Skillz]
 Now who gets you what you want when you want it? (My man)
 Who keep it real with your shorty never front it? (My man)
 Who hit that, split that, keep it coming
 Who hit you with the knot and hold on to a hundred? (My man)
 That's what I thought; quick, I'm too slick to get caught
 If I like a whip, the whip gettin bought
 The boss, and rapper out get tossed
 I don't care if you got a 50 page ad in The Source
 Of course Lo Life, Lo Life's my name
 If you John Blaze, then I'm James Flames
 Uhh, Mad, uhh Skillz on the track
 So uhh, pardon me uhh, as I come back