[Intro - Pharrell]nYo, we lovin' thisnI got it babynAin't nothin' but a par-ar-tynOn my laced out chicks, par-tynAll my niggaz in the six, par-tynClipse comin' wit' the hits, par-tynn[Verse 1 - Pusha T]nYo, the flow echo, grab a ho, won't let gonChick shake her ass, Kalipso, I'm drinkin' on the worldnSip slow, techno scene, lace a beamnMy team up, stand out like indigo dreamsnIn the club, bitches starin', dress, Donna KarennThey inch a bit close to see the links we wearin'nThe jealous cats fill the room, but that's they doomnBecause if the beef get set (PW: We cause a typhoon)nYeah, what you here for, you better prepare fornThe background 'cause your presence no one'll carenFor the auto-matac, retaliate if it's sat-acnStagger when I walk, let my emeralds talknTerror's status, tote unquote top, never dropnWhile the competition pleads and begs for us to stopnThe interlock, stack like stock, style I gotnGonna make the world build off me like catcher's glocks, yonn[Chorus - Pharrell]nAll I wanna do is drink on the worldnLayin' on the beach, takin' sips wit' my girlnHere they come tryin' to trouble menI just giggle 'cause I know they don't seenNor can they hear so they need to explainnIt's piece on pieces, that's simple and plainnThis is our ode to the galaxynNiggaz in the wrong if you feel like menn[Verse 2 - Malice]nDo you not know what the Clipse isnMalicious, M.C. type relentlessnWhy risk going against this, senselessnYou in the realm where your team is defenselessnPlayers we ball, you in the benchesnFull of clips, underground wit' extensionsnYou thought the camp had love, we show none like a show gunnMalice murderin' MCs, except wit' no gunnThe slow gun, beat'll live fast, die youngnWe from where they strike in the flash, like Cy YoungnHow you come where you ain't welcome puzzlin'nTake us more sips to cliss, we guzzlin'nGot me wonderin', how can you live wit' yourselfnMove a detective, similar to the 'selfnDrama, you want drama, we do dramanThe prize package, we blow like Unibomba'nn[Chorus]nn[Verse 3 - Pusha T]nIt's a fine line, between the have and the ain't gotnMad 'cause you ain't hot, in fact, far from itnWatch you plummet, we reside at the summitnFull of clips, run this, ridiculousnWhy you makin' me laugh, eat clipsnAnd an E-class, tap the wine glass at the lipnThen on behalf of the clique, take a sipnRemember how we used to be like now it be like, whatevernMalice and Terror, of the bad double headernn[Malice]nIt's the congruent, symmetrical bomb unitnOpposition fate, end up in found unitnSync wit' the flow, hell no, we fine tunin'nAnd make the lie, kiss while you break your spine to itnTalkin' to make you feel me walkin' without a worrynBlaze up the spot, watch the whole crowd hurrynMagnetic, do you like a tractor, patheticnFully clips, M.O., yo, ready to chest hitnn[Chorus x2 w/ ad-libs]nn[Outro - Pharrell]nPar-ty..nAin't nothin' but a Clipse par-tynAll my niggaz in the six, par-tynOn my laced out chicks, par-ty