This is another Missy Elliot exclusive. My Twinkies look stanky on the beans, and don't I gotta look sweet for my means? And make them think I got a whole bunch of paper, and even date a boy playin' from the Lakers. The faker taker make her holler at you later, shake her wake up tell her what to get my ass from Jacobs. That's the way a real diva like to floss it, buy a car no matter what it cost, sis. Of course it's my Rolls Royces, make them nauseous, tell you who the motherfuckin' boss is. I'm drivin', you walkin', that's why you talkin', see the chrome spinnin' on the wheel, stop jokin'. I'ma let you know real nice and slow, I'd be broke as a joke if I had to be your ho-so-po. Missy on the rise like the sun, if you think that I'm done, I ain't even begun. Slice, slice, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. Feel the boombastic in your back, kid, 15's puttin' hoes in your back, kid. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. Don't it sound so fantastic? My Lamborghini disappear like Houdini, 220 can't see me in the bottle like a genie. Teeny, weeny, they hate me like you hate these Jewitties. Now here's a freebie, I'ma let you see me on TV. Except in Miami, you're the Grammy in Miami. I hit you with the one, two, whammy, you're no tooth granny with a hole in the panties. And I don't give a *** if you can't stand me, cause I is what I is and what I am is like my mammy. And I don't mean to sound too petty, but they used to call me fatty, till I got with Puff Daddy. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. My rims keep turnin' and turnin', tires burnin' through Queens and Mount Vernon. And yes, it's my concern that your chain platinum or is it really sterling? I'm old school, I rock a Sherlin, from New Jersey, heard all the way to Berlin. And that's for certain, behind every curtain is a snake bitch lurkin' and she bout to catch her end. Mr. Moe's on the beats, and Missy be the beast behind the beats. My record sales don't jump and do leaps, and while you sleep, I'm on the grind as a creep. I got Pumas on my feet, fresh gear every day, all week. You know I keep a high for my peeps, never cheap underground like the streets. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around. Slice, slice, dip, dip, shake, shake, move it all around, move it all around.