Lyric I

[Petey]
Man holla at ya dog
Petey Petey hey yall hey yall
Carolina bird dog, still got my shirt off
Still reppin for convicts in Sing-sing to Burgaw
Still rockin with T-T-Timbaland uh-uh uh-uh
I got a different role, different stroll
Impose, every nigga in here tryin best to fuck with Petey hoes
I got em by the boat load, dark skin to pink-toes
Li l bitty to big hoe, nineteen to forty-fo
I got some 1965 pantyhose
Still in the plastic bag now tell me I ain t a macaroni
Jerome Jerome to Don Corleone
Petey Petey the pussy beater
I suck em, fuck em, send em home
I gets my thug on, weekends
I get me club on, we in
So many hotels boy I ought to buy my own
Petey-ott, Petey swiss, Petey inn, Petey I (Petey I)
MAN WE DID IT AGAIN

[chorus]
I I I I I I I I I I I I
Got them girls
Got them thangs
Got them guns
Got them stunts uh, I said
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
Got them girls
Got them thangs
Got them guns
Got them stunts uh, I said
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
Got them girls
Got them thangs
Got them stunts uh, I said
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
Got them girls
Got them thangs
Got them guns
Got them stunts uh,

[Petey]
P-P-Pardon me dog
Its the gitchie from the gitchie bar
Its really a tittie bar but I ain t got no license for it
I got the what they want
Plenty H, plenty O
Plenty guns, plenty bows
Muthafucka chew ya road
You ain t never seen this before
But when this shit drop, all she wrote
International playa (yay ah)
D-D-Deah ya go
All they want is that Timbaland and Petey Pablo
Now watch me ball, da-dunna-dunna
Rims spinnin , 20 s on all the cars, da-dunna-dunna
Every time we hit em they different broads, da-dunna-dunna
Now yall ain t ready
I m the jumping in the Jumping Jack Flash
You don t hear the way ya disc jumpin across the track
Nigga I m a jumpin ass
Fist stomp I know you mad
But ain t too much you can do bout that
Cause I ll make em stop the track
Tighten my belt and whoop y all ass
Y all niggas gon understand why niggas don t wanna drop shit this year
Five and five equals ten Petey Pab Timbaland is all it is

[chorus]

[Petey]
I m the quicker picker-upper
Crazy soda can crusher
River, rock path, mobile home
Country muthafucka
Rep the dirty like a car commercial
You ain t heard it pitchin
Like the smell in the pasture, I m the Cacky-lacky shit
Tr-Tr-Trash talkin som bitch
Trust me man I ain t the one to get mad at
Petey Pab got a bag of vats
And a gat if it come to that
So nigga-nigga don t act like that, playin
Get a nigga smacked like that, I m sayin
Get a nigga wig pushed back, DAMN
Timbaland where ya at

[Timbaland]
In a 18-wheeler blowin my horn-horn
Granddad in the field pickin beans and corn-corn
Mama never saw that a star was born-born
Mama said star go mow that lawn-lawn
I said its hot as hell a nigga need some lemonade
Bump it its 2000 a nigga needs some Minute Maid
Go head and act up get cut with this switch blade
Nigga you better pay attention what the hook say

[chorus]