[Produced by Dan The Automator]

[Hook: Dr. Octagon]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!

[Verse 1]
I crank up lyrical flows, spit Spats, what's that?
The pattern records, don't touch the DATs, yo
Check out the pro-skills, medic fulfills
Contact react to style, I'm back—you lack
Channels and handles, Automator's on the panels
Turning knobs, you slobs suckers like Baskin-Robbs
Carvel don't tell—your whole crew is ice cream fudge
Rappers that budge, making moves step in grooves
And ride the pace like at thirty-three dark shades
Now you seeing me
Rap moves on to the year three thousand

[Hook]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!

[Verse 2]
Let me shuffle—red, red, red, see the black card, it ain't hard
Pick and choose, you lose, oops, you lost
Check out the boss on Broadway down to walkways
Suckers with mics that end up with tooth decay
I, the Doctor, stop ya, in your world rock ya
Heads bop, forever tunes and they won't stop like hip-hop
Keeps growing, sick of- sick of showing
Scratches in mattress, business, money, reattaches worldwide
Deep inside stops the diamond rocks
In a million world, billion world, quadrillion world
Rap moves on to the year three thousand
[Hook]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!

[Verse 3]
As studies have shown; participator acts walk up, clog up
And mess up water down the sound that comes from the ghetto
In the middle the core you tour, explore experience
What is real you feel, changing ways
Commercial rap's in the grave, stuff on disc that's very wack
That you saved, you think it's good won't go platinum
Or even turn wood, sell the cassette
Your homie's tape deck gets wet
You my pet, my poodle chicken noodle's on the rise
Open your eyes and see my life
Rap moves on to the year three thousand!

[Hook]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!