Back to the Future Pitbull (Ft. Fergie)

[Intro: Fergie & Pitbull]
I'm so 3008 (LMFAO)
I'm so 3008 (Armando Bond, double 'O' 305)
I'm so 3008
I'm so 3008 (That we ready, they can go ahead and beat me up)

[Chorus: Fergie]
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late
I'm so 3000 and eight, you so 2000 and late

[Verse 1: Pitbull]
Houston, we have a problem (problem)
NASA better call 'em (call 'em)
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 (takeoff)
I'm so ahead of the game
I'm trying to catch up to myself (It's selfish)
Y'all sound like me in 2004
It's the truth, I can't help it
Y'all so late, latе, late, late, late
Y'all so lamе, my father's gone
But thank god he came, chevys on satellite dishes
Them boys so futuristic, mami, your ass so jupiter
That ass is so huge-i-listic, I know it ain't a word
But that is some super [?] futuristic shit