Up Jumps Da Boogie by Timbaland

"Up Jumps Da Boogie"
Album: Welcome to Our World
Released: 1997
tabbed by: qweyet Gi

I also provided lyrics so people don't have to go searching for it.
Leave your criticisms.


  Rhythm: Play the first, second and fourth time
e|-----------------|-----------------|--------------6---|------9-7---------|
B|-----------------|--9---------9-10-|-----------10-----|---------10-9---9-|
G|--6--------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
D|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
A|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
E|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|

  Rhythm: Play the third time
e|-----------------|-----------------|-----------9--7---|------6-----------|
B|-----------------|--9---------9-10-|------------------|---------10-----9-|
G|--6--------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
D|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
A|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|
E|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|------------------|

Verse 1: [Magoo]
I fiend for all beats, like girls jump for dicks
Don't salt the next man, keep that Lindbergh s***
Up in the cut, like gay n*****, in butt
I'm black wit Indian, my race should be mutt
I cut with razor blades, play spades with Aunt Venus
Evaluate this rap, take heed a f******* genius
Up in the sky, up high, don't puff lye
Do you smoke crack Sam? Prepare to f****** die
F*** Crazy Joe, my name is Crazy Flow
You thought I had eight, but I got ten mo'
Off beat and on beat, old school like beat street
I stink like pop's feet, make sweat wit' no heat

Verse 2: [Timbaland]
I'm up on this track, like Pam Grier in movies
I heats up the beat, like water in a jacuzzi
I fly to L-A, then come back to Virginia
Then call, Maganoo, to see if he's got some Indo
Then back to the crib to pick up my brother, "G"
G don't forget, to bring the house keys
Hops in the eight, five-oh now here we go
Please, please, brother don't slam my car do'
It costs too much money to get that s*** fixed
I need all my money to pay my bills with
Don't have no time, for the shuckin' and jivin'
Peep my rhyme, cause that, s**** off-timin'

Verse 3: [Missy]
I'm in the Marriott, the place to get got
After I smoke pot, he sticks me like shots
Funky like farts, connect tongues like dots
Lick his lollipop, this kid named Scott
Me my hot self, myself be so hot
Touch my hot spot, I scream 'til I can't stop
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh (what, what?)
Give it to me daddy and
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh (what, what?)
Yup, yup like Teddy
Teddy, ready with the one, two checka
No diggity, Missy be the bedroom wrecka
Double decka, make you wanna beat your pecka
And then leave your b****, cause this "uhhh!" be betta

Chorus: 
(Give it up!)
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me 
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me 
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me 
(Give it up! we gon' show, you how we party)
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me
(Give it up! we gon show, you how we party)

Verse 4: [Magoo]
Prepare to get wet, like jheri curl juice
You tight like virgin p****, my rap get you loose
I bump like ac-ne, take honey from a bee
My style is like a safe, without the f****** key
I c** 'cause I'm a nut, don't bleed when I'm cut
No fan of Madonna, she just a damn slut
So sit, you damn dog, and bow to my s***
Nit-wit you stupid, I'm butter don't need grits
Make fits like seizure, lick c*** to please ya
I book then read ya, follow the leada
Like Jews and Chinese, I own your rap lease
The wackness must cease, prepare for yo release

Verse 5: [Timbaland]
I'm up in these labels tryin' to, handle my business
Been makin' more beats before, Jehovah had witness
Up jumps da boogie, boogie jumps me
Brother brother, please, turn on the TV
See a black man dead, from a white mans powder
See a white man scared, from a black mans power
Back to reality, please don't freakin' smile at me
This is a stick-up, so give up yo wallet please

Verse 6: Missy
I'm the best, and thats "B", and thats capital
I hang low like testicles, emcees wanna copy these many flows
Hoes, better back up, foe they get slapped up
Pack up and go tell mommy, that I backed up you
You, you, you, and your whole crew
What, whatcha whatcha whatcha gon' do uhh, what whatcha gon' do
To me, the M-I-double S-Y-E
Wanna battle me, its gonna be some tragedy

[Chorus]

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