Magoo And Timbaland Clock Strikes Remix Lyrics

Clock Strikes Remix Lyrics

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