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Chris:
Here's a little rhyme we gotta bust
About da 5 bad brothers for whom you lust
We made up da group in F-L-A
With Lansten, Christo, and Triple J.
Justin:
My name is Justin Timberlake and I'm a hottie
All the girlies love me 'cause I gots a body
I give a little shimmy, I give a little thrust
Girls wanna hit it with me, I'm the object of their lust.
I'm 6'3", and even though Nick is taller
He's got ten chins, and I'm a badass baller
My hair's a bit curly, so what if that's true
A brother's gotta keep it real, what more can I do?
Even though my hair is big, I still keep it crunk
All the girlies say they wanna see my junk.
I've got the hook-up, I'm banging Britney Spears
I tell Chris I like him just so he will buy me beer.
Chris:
Wait a minute J, are you tellin' a lie?
Or do ya wanna be a bitch and make a brotha cry?
Man, all those times you said I was funny--
Justin:
Shut yo' mouth, Chris, you've still got your money.
Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful, that ain't right
But hate me 'cause you can ride this shit all night.
The name's JRT, bitch, you better recognize
I got the best lookin' ass of all these guys.
JC:
Yo get off the mic, J, it's time to get real
My timbs, and my baggy jeans, y'all wanna feel
I'm a sexy mofo, and I know for a fact
No one can mess wit' me because I'm on crack.
I cruise all day, and I score all night
Just 'cause I'm Christian don't mean I ain't tight.
Even though I'm skinny, I'm still 100% man
I steal all the solos whenever I can
You may think it's whack I play jazz all day
But take a look at Lansten, that boy looks gay!
Lance:
Damn it JC, don't act like a prick
It ain't my fault I used to look like a chick.
Now I'm MONEY, and I'm gettin' ASS.
Say my name bitch, I'm Lance BASS.
I might not be Clark Gable, I ain't James Bond
But now that Justin's roots grew in, I'm the token blond
Justin:
Yo Lansten, wuz up wit dat, you dissin the curl?
Don't be so cocky, you still look like a girl.
Joey:
My name's Joey, and I'm not skeezy
I'm not fat, I'm not stupid, and I'm not easy.
I've never had sex, or any such thing--
Justin:
Get out of here, bitch, who said you could sing?
Chris:
My name's Chris, and man, I'm funny!
All the girls want me just because I have money!
I play football, and I can really tell a joke.
Justin likes to club with me, and snort lines of coke.
I've got a dog Busta, he crapped in Justin's bunk
I guess J didn't think that was very crunk.
Ha ha, get it? I crack myself up!
And everybody loves me now because of my pup.
I use my dog for attention, I'll admit that it's true
But now that I cut my hair, y'all love that too!
Heather:
Hold up, y'all, give a sista a damn break,
Hand over the mic so I can set the record straight.
This just ain't workin, take it from a girl.
All this wannabe rappin's gonna make me hurl.
JC:
Hold up woman, you sound straight bitter.
What's with the acrylics and the body glitter?
Who do you think you are, wearing all that pleather?
Heather:
Listen good, bitch, they call me Heather.
Y'all ain't crunk, and you don't have thug appeal,
And no, I don't like it when JC keeps it real.
Justin, who you kidding, in that baby blue,
the guys at my school are better ballers than you.
You're a bunch of white boys, and you sing POP.
You can't rap for nothing, and it's time you STOP.
Justin:
What you sayin', girl, you callin me a failure?
Heather:
Baby, shut your mouth and let's head back to my trailer.