Git on the floor! Whoa! I'm the party starter
You might have a good time but we party harder
So, tell the DJ to play my song
And we could dance all night to the early mornin'

Oh! I'm the party starter
You might have a good time but we party harder
So, tell the DJ to play my song
And we could dance all night to the early mornin'

Dance, an aphrodisiac
Women gyrating, simulating sensual acts
To stimulating musical tracks
I thought I was just gon' come out tonight and get a brew and relax
But no! Uh uh, when you're the party starter
It's like you're on call, you're what the doctor ordered
It's like you gotta block the border to the door
And shock 'em when it's boring
Git on the floor!

Ugh, it's the groovicide bomber, mic in my vest
Tight, strapped to my chest
Like I'ma run up in the party hollerin'
And be like "ohhh!" , fulfillin' my callin'
Big! (big), will! (will), that's my name, whoop!
Writin' rhymes, that's my game, whoop!
Ask me again and I'll tell you the same, whoop!
Just write your number right next to your name, girl

He was raised in the days when the roof was raised
Every rap occasion, new and amazing
The back of the stage amazed and gazin'
Prayin' for the day they would one day praise him
Studied the ways of the game and made it
Came through the maze and the haze and played it perfect
Days any person hated and cursed him, he was unfazed
He waited, it was worth it, he never retaliated
He saved it, slavin', on the road blazin'
Days when he was low, nothin' could raise him
He came to the show and somethin' uncaged in him
Like the pope, but it's party crusade, I'm like braids that's never gon' fade (ya heard)
I'm like, 23's on an escalade, throw me into the rave
Like you threw a grenade - boom!!

I call for the days of the unadulterated
When the artistry was cultivated
You know, back when rap was smart and multilayered
We could rap without a&rs and ultimatums (damn)
Now today I say the phrase I long for the good old days when the party was all about partyin'
I was a mini-party starter then
My mind bends when I call my pen
The big question: Should I run the mind a little
Food for thought or dumb the