Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique Album Lyrics

Yeah
To all the Brooklyn girls
To all the French girls
To all the Oriental girls

Chinese
Japanese
To all the Swiss girls
To the Italian women

To the upper east side Mombiles
To all the Jamaican girls
And to the topless dancers
(Australian)

(And Brazilian)
(To the southern belles)
To the Puerto Rican girls
To the stewardesses flying around the world

Now I rock a house party at the drop of a hat (yeah)
I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat
(A lot of people they be jonesin' just to hear me rock the mic)
They'll be staring at the radio
(Staying up all night)
So like a pimp (I'm pimpin')
I got a boat to (eat shrimp in)
Nothing wrong with my leg just B-boy limpin'
(Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float)
(My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat)
Oowah oowah is my disco call
(MCA) hu-huh, I'm gettin' rope y'all
Routines, (I bust) and the rhymes (that I write)
And I'll be busting routines and rhymes all night
Like eating burgers or chicken or you'll be picking your nose, man
I'm on time, homie, that's how it goes
You heard my style, I think you missed the point
It's the joint

Mike D (yeah?) With your bad self running things
(What's up?) with your bad breath onion rings
(Well I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead)
(Chillin' at the beaches down at Club Med)
Make another record 'cause the people they want more of this
Suckers they be saying they can take out Adam Horovitz
Hurricane (you got clout)
(Other DJ's he'll take your head out)
A puppet on a string I'm paid to sing (or rhyme)
Or do my thing I'm
In a lava lamp inside my brain hotel
I might be peakin' or freakin' but I rock well
The Patty Duke Show, the Wrench (and then I bust the tango)
Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango
I got the peg leg at the end of my stump-a
Shake your rump

A full clout y'all
A full clout y'all
And when the mic is in my mouth I turn it out y'all
A full clout

Never been dumped ('cause I'm the most mackinest)
Never been jumped ('cause I'm known the most packinest)
Yeah, we've got beef, chief
We're knocking out teeth, chief
And if you don't believe us you should question your belief, Keith
I'm like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat
(Like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet)
Should I have another sip? (Nah, skip it)
In the back of the ride (and bust with the whippet)
Rope-a-dope dookies all around the neck
Woo-ha got them all in check
(Running from the law the press and the parents)
Is your name Michael Diamond?
(No mine's Clarence)
From downtown (Manhattan) the village
My style is wild and you know that it still is
Disco bag schlepping and you're doing the bump
Shake your rump-a

Johnny Ryall is the bum on my stoop
I gave him fifty cents to buy some soup
He knows the time with the fresh Gucci watch
He's even more over than the mayor Ed Koch
Washing windows on the Bowery at a quarter to four
'Cause he ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Living on borrowed time and borrowed money
Sleepin' on the street there ain't a damn thing funny
Hand me down food and hand me down clothes
A rockabilly past of which nobody knows
Makes his home all over the place
He goes to sleep by falling down on his face
Sometimes known as the leader of the homeless
Sometimes drunk and he's always phoneless
Sleepin' on the street in a cardboard box
He's better off drinkin' than smokin' the rocks
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall

He drinks where he lies
He's covered with flies
He's got the hand me down Pumas and the tie dyes
Go upstate and get your head together
Thunderbird is the word and you're light as a feather
Detox at the flop house no booze allowed
Remember the good old days with the rockabilly crowd
Memphis is where he's from
He lives in the street but he's no bum
A rockabilly star from the days of old
He used to have teeth all filled with gold
A platinum voice but only gold records
On the bass was boots on the drums was checkers
Luis Vuitton with the Gucci guitar
Johnny Ryall
Who do you think you are
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall

Donald Trump Donald Tramp living in the Men's Shelter
Wonder Bread bag shoes and singing Helter Skelter
He asks for a dollar you know what it's for
Bottle after bottle he'll always need more
He's no less important than you working class stiffs
Drinks a lot of liquor but he don't drink piss
Paid his dues playing the blues
He claims that he wrote the Blue Suede Shoes
Elvis shaved his head when he went into the army
That's right y'all his name is
Johnny
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall

I looked out the window and seen his bald head
I ran to the fridge and pulled out an egg
Scoped him with my scopes he had no hair
Launched that shot and he was caught out there
Saw the convertible driving by
Loaded up the slingshot and let one fly
He went for his to find he didn't have one
Put him in check correct with my egg gun
The egg a symbol of life
Go inside your house and bust out your wife
Pulled out the jammy he thought it was a joke
The trigger I pulled his face the yoke
Reached in his pocket took all his cash
Left my man standing with an egg moustache
Suckers they come a dime a dozen
And when I say dozen you know what I'm talking about boyee

Yeh, that's right, I'm the Egg Man
Driving Around, King of the town
Always got my windows rolled down
You know, I'm the Egg Man

Once upon a time
Humpty Dumpty was a big fat egg
He was playing the wall and then he broke his leg
Tossed it out the window three minutes hot
Hit the Rastaman he said bloodclot
Which came first the chicken or the egg
I egged the chicken then I ate his leg
Riding the trains in between cars
When I pull out the station you're gonna get yours
Drive by eggings plaguing L.A.
Yo they just got my little cousin ese
Sometimes hard boiled sometimes runny
It comes from a chicken not a bunny dummy
People laugh it's no joke
My name's Yauch and I'm throwing the yoke
Now they got me in a cell but I don't care
It was then that I caught catching people out there

Up on the roof, in my car
Up all night, I'm pulling through signs like Dolomite
The mack, I'm the Egg Man
Taxi Driver, I'm the Egg Man

We all dressed in black we snuck up around the back
We began to attack the eggs did crack on Haze's back
Sam I am down with the program
Green eggs and ham Yosemite Sam
Come Halloween you know I come strapped
I throw it at a sucker K-pap
You made the mistake you judge a man by his race
You go through life with egg on your face
You woke up in the morning with a peculiar feeling
You looked up and saw egg dripping from the ceiling
Families puck rocks the businessman
I'll dog anybody with an egg in my hand
Not like the crack that you put in a pipe
But crack on your forehead here's a towel now wipe

'Cause I'm the high plains drifter, and I'm the drifter
The high plains drifter, and I'm the drifter
They can't catch me they're never gonna find me
They're never gonna know that I'm the high plains drifter

Pulled over to the river, to take a rest
Pulled out a pair of pliers pulled a bullet out of my chest
Fear and loathing 'cross the country listenin' to my 8-track
I reached behind the seat and snatched a Kool from the pack
I'm long-distance from my girl and I'm talking on my cellular
She said that she was sorry and I said yeah the hell you were
Check the rear view mirror check the gold tooth display
Check out the odometer and I was on my way

'Cause I'm the high plains drifter the best that you can get
A strapped shoplifter a pirate on cassette
Bust a Travis Bickle when I feel that I'm getting pushed
Don't step to me 'cause you could be gettin' mushed

I'm doing a hundred and twenty plowin' over mailboxes
Radar detector to tell me where the cops is
Spend another night at the Motel 6
It's five dollars extra to get the porno flicks
And then I concoct a black and tan in my brandy snifter
I'ma kleptomaniac Kmart shoplifter
Cash flow gettin' low so I had to pull a job
I found a nice place to visit but a better place to rob
I left the car outside and the engine still revving
Takin' care of business at 7-Eleven
I went inside to make my withdrawal
I saw what he had had but I had to take it all
Knucklehead deli tried to gyp me off the price
So I clocked him on the turban with a bag of ice
'Cause I mellow like Jell-O cool like lemonade
I made my get a way and then I thought that I had it made
I feel like Steve McQueen, a Former movie star
Looked in the rear view mirror seen the police car
Ballantine quarts with the puzzle on the cap
I couldn't help to notice I was caught in a speed trap
Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry, on the run from Dirty Harry
Stash the cash in the dash, but my gun I did carry
I'm seeing blue and red flashing deep in the night
I got my alibi straight and I pulled over to the right
The cop knocked on my window and said Boy, where's the fire?
You got a mailbox on your bumper and a bald front tire
"Outta the car longhair," your goose is cooked
Read me my rights fingerprinted and booked

Making like a DT, driving a grand fury
Wherever I hang my hat's my home and my past is kind of blurry
Every dog has his day mine will be in front of a jury
High plains drifter you know that I'm never in a hurry

Read me my rights as if I didn't know this
Threw me in the tank with a drunk called Otis
With his five o'clock shadow he smelled of three day old beer
My man turned to me and said, "Why are you here?"
I said I'm charming I'm dashing I'm rental car bashing
I'm phony-paper passing at Nick's Check and Cashing
I went before the judge he sent my to the Brooklyn house of D
He said, "You behave or we'll throw away the key"
Houdini'd out the cuffs, kicked the screw in the knee
I took the Bailiff's wallet and went straight to OTB
I had a good feeling easy come easy go
I bet on one horse to win and another and so
And sure enough, that nag came in
Brought my ticket to the window and collected my win
And I broke into my new car with a wire coat hanger
Hot wired hot wheeled and, "Suzy is a headbanger"

Now here we go dropping science dropping it all over
Like bumping around the town like when you're driving a Range Rover
Expanding the horizons and expanding the parameters
Expanding the rhymes of sucker M.C. amateurs
And Naugels, Isaac Newton and Scientific E.Z.
Ah Ben Franklin with the kite ah gettin' over with the key
Now rock shocking the mic as many times times the times tables
Rock well to tell dispel all of the old fables
'Cause I've been dropping the new science
And I've been kicking the new knowledge
An M.C. to a degree that you can't get in college
Now the dregs of the earth and the eggs that I eat
I've got pegs through my hands and one through my feet
Shea Stadium the radium E M D squared
Kicked out of the Palladium you think that I cared
It's the sound of science
The sounds of science
Science..

Rope a dope
The newest in new
"Right up to your face and dis you"
Waxin' and milkin'
All of ya'll square heads

Time and money for girls covered with honey
You lie and aspire to be as cunning
Reeling and rockin' and rollin' B size D cup
Order the quarter deluxe why don't you wake up
My mind is kinda flowin' like an oil projector
Had to get up to get the Jimmy protector
Went berserk and worked and exploded
She woke up in the morning and her face was coated
Buddy you study the man on the mic
D. do what you like huh D.
Well Drunk a skunk am I from the celebration
To peep that freak unique penetration
Well I figured out who makes the crack
It's the suckers with the badges and the blue jackets
A professor of science cause I keep droppin' it
I smell weak cause you keep poppin' it
And people always asking what's the phenomenon
"Yo what's up" yo what's goin' on
No one really knows what I'm talking about
Yeah that's right my name's Yauch

Ponce De Leon constantly on
The fountain of youth not Robotron
Peace is a word I've heard before
So move and move and move upon the dance floor
'Cause I'm gonna' die gonna' die one day
Cause I'm goin' and goin' and goin' this way
Not like a roach or a piece of toast
I'm goin' out first class ain't goin' out coach
Rock my Adidas never rock Fila
"I do not sniff the coke I only smoke the sinsemilla"
Well with my nose I knows and with my scopes I scope
What I live I write and that is strictly rope
I've got science for any occasion
Postulating theorems formulating equations
Well Cheech wizard in a snow blizzard
Eating chicken gizzards with a girl named Lizzy
Droppin' science like Galileo dropped the orange

(Beastie Boys/Dust Bros.)

I stay up all night I go to sleep watchin' Dragnet
Never sleep alone because Jimmy is the magnet
I'm so rope they call me Mr. Roper
When the troubles arise you know I'm the cool coper
On the mic I score just like the Yankees
Get over on Ms. Crabtree like my main man Spankee
Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya
But you're looking so fly inside your B.M.W.
I got lucky I brought home the kitten
Before I got busy I schlepped on the mitten
Can't get better odds because I'm a sure thing
Proud Mary keeps on turning and rolling like a Ring Ding
Jump the turnstile never pay the tool
Doo wa diddy and bust with the pre-roll
Customs jailed me over an herb seed
Don't rat on your boy over some rat weed
I'm outta your back door I'm into another
Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and you're mother
Not perfect grammar always perfect timing
The Mike stands for money and the D. is for diamonds

Roses are red the sky is blue
I got my barrel at your neck so what the f*ck you gonna' do
It's just two wheels and me the wind in my eyes
The engine is the music and my nine's by my side
Cause you know why a you see H.
I'm takin' all M.C.'s out in the place
Takin' life as it comes no fool am I
I'm goin' off gettin' paid and I don't ask why
Playin' beats on my box makin' music for the many
Know alota def girls that'll do anything
A lot of parents like to think I'm a villain
I'm just chillin' like Bob Dylan
Yea I smoke cheeba it helps me with my brain
I might be a little dusted but I'm not insane
People come up to me and they try to talk shit man
I was making records when you were sucking on your mother's dick

Girl you're walking tall now in your fancy clothes
You got fancy things their going up your nose
You gettin' fancy gifts from expensive men
You're a dog on a leash like a pig in a pen
Mothership connection getting girl's affection
If your life needs correction don't follow my direction
You got your 8 by 10 your agent your Harley
You be driving around Hollywood with yo sorry charlie
Cause I'm running things like some Mack motherf*cker
You slipin' you slackin' cause you're a false fake sucker
You slip you slack you clock me and you lack
While I'm reading on the road by my man Jack Kerouac
Poetry in motion coconut lotion
Had to diss the girl because she got too emotional
Are you experienced little girl
I want to know what goes on in your little girl world
Cause I'm on your mind It's hard to forget me
I'll take your pride for a ride if you let me
So peace out ya'll, a PCP song out
Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout
And I'm out...
"Waa.."

Hey ladies in the place, I'm callin' out to ya
There never was a city kid truer and bluer
There's more to me than you'll ever know
And I've got more hits than Sadaharu Oh
Tom Thumb, Tom Cushman or Tom Foolery
I date women on T.V. with the help of Chuck Woolery
Words are flowing out just like the Grand Canyon
And I'm always out looking for a female companion
I threw the lasso around the tallest one and dragged her to the crib
I took off her moccasins and put on my bib
Wheelin' and dealin' I make a little bit of stealing
I'll bring her back to the place and your dress I'm peeling
Your body's on time and your mind is appealing
Staring at the cracks up there up on the ceiling
Such and such'll be the bass that I'm throwing
I'm talking to the girl telling her I'm all-knowing
She's talking to the kid (who?) to the kid, to the kid
I'm telling her every lie that you know that I never did
Hey ladies, get funky

All the ladies in the house
The ladies, the ladies

Well, me in the corner with a good looking daughter
I dropped my drawers, said welcome back Kotter
We was cutting up the rug, she started cutting up the carpet
In my apartment, I begged her, please stop it
The gift of gab is the gift that I have
And that girl ain't nothing but a crab
Educated no, stupid yep
And when I say stupid, I mean stupid fresh
I'm not James at fifteen or Chachi in charge
I'm Adam and I'm adamant about living large
With the white sassoons and the looks that kill
Makin' love in the back of my Coupe De Ville
I met a little cutie she was all hopped up on zootie
I liked the little cutie but I kicked her in the bootie
'Cause I don't kinda go for that messin' around
You be listening to my records' a number one sound
Just step to the rhythm, step, step to the ride
I've got an open mind so why don't you all get inside?
Tune in, turn on to my tune that's live
Ladies flock like bees to a hive
Hey ladies, get funky

Hey, hey, hey, hey ladies (girls, girls)
Hey, hey, hey, hey, ladies
One more time, ain't it funky now?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey ladies
(Ain't it funky now?) well, you know that

She got a gold tooth you know she's hardcore
She'll show you a good time then she'll show you the door
Break up with your girl it ended in tears
Vincent Van Gogh go and mail that ear
Call her in the middle of the night when I'm drinking
The phone booth on the corner is damp and it's stinking
Said come on over it was me that she missed
I threw that trash can through her window 'cause you know I got dissed
Your old lady left you and you went insane
You blew yourself up in the back of the six train
Take my advice at any price a gorilla like your mother is mighty weak
Sucking down pints until I didn't know
Woke up in the morning with a one-ton ho
'Cause I announce I like girls that bounce
With the weight that pays about a pound per ounce
Girls with curls and big long locks
And beatnik chicks just wearing their smocks
Walking high and mighty like she's number one
(She thinks she's the passionate one)

Hey ladies, get funky
Dance
Good god
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Ain't it funky brother?
Hey, hey, hey, hey ladies
Hey ladies

(Some hoopin' and a hollerin')
Jeb.. get away from the bar-b-que man
Don... get the hell away from that thing
Don's, give me a kiss
Won't you come and give me a kiss

I'm rolling down the hill snowballing getting bigger
An explosion in the chamber the hammer from the trigger
I seen him get stabbed I watched the blood spill out
He had more cuts than my man Chuck Chillout
24 is my age 22 is my gauge
I'm writing rhymes on a page going off in a rage
Out on a mission a stolen car mission
Had a little problem with the transmission
3 on the tree in the middle of the night
I have this steak on my head cause I got into a fist fight
Life comes in phases take the good with the bad
You bought those coins on the street and you got had
Because it's all high spirit you know you gotta hear it
Don't touch the mic baby don't come near it
It's gonna get you it's gonna get you
It's gonna get you girl it's gonna get you

Looking down the barrel of a gun
Son of a gun son of a bitch
Getting paid getting rich

Ultra violence running through my head
Fuzzy navel y'all making me see red
Rapid fire Louie like Rambo got bullets
I'm a gonna die harder like my kid Bruce Willis
I love girlies waxing and milking
Coordinating chics is my man Dave Scilkin
Predetermined destiny is who I am
You got your finger on the trigger like the Son of Sam
I am like Clockwork Orange going off on the town
I've got homeboys bonanza to beat your ass down
I'm mad at my desk and I'm writing all curse words
Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words
You're a headless chicken chasin' a sucker free basin
Looking for a fist to put your face in
Get hip don't slip knuckle heads
Racism is schism on the serious tip

Some static started in the pool hall
Hit a motherf*cker's face with the cue ball
Then I met this girl she tried to gank me
So I smacked her in the booty with M.C. Plank Bee
Me and my crew out breaking windows
The bingo the lotto you know I'll never win those
Possession is half the law
I had my routines before all y'all
Your whole life is coming apart at the seams
You ain't nothing but a car thief biting routines
I'm a city slicker I ain't no townie
Right now I wish I had another hash brownie
Like Ricky always said you've got to toke and pass
Or Mookie's gonna kick your f*ckin' ass
You try to take what isn't yours like a God damn rat
See personally I wouldn't want to go out like that

I'm a writer a poet a genius I know it
I don't buy cheeba I grow it Marijuana
People always trying to get next to me
I had a beautiful experience on Ecstasy
Smoked up a bag of elephant tranquilizer
Because I had to deal with a money hungry miser
Had a caine filled Kool with my man Rush Rush
Saw my teeth fall in the sink when I started to brush
You be doing nose candy on the Bowie Coke Mirror
My girl asked for some but I pretended not to hear her
You can't deny me you always want to try me
You're just gonna get your ass kicked
Homeboy throw in the towel
Your girl got dicked by Ricky Powell
The Godfather of Soul is in the belly of the beast
For smoking that dust at St. Anthony's Feast

All the wife beaters and all the tax cheaters
Sitting in the White House pulling their peters
Buy my cheeba from the cop down the street
The only cop with a rope chain walking the beat
Like a sneaky pouch time bomb tickin'
Like the beat to my rhyme just kickin'
Space cake cookies I discover who I am
I'm a dusted old bummy Hurdy Gurdy Man
Five-O caught me now I'm going to the mountains
Said good-bye to my girl my lawyers and accountants
My mind is kinda rhymin and I think I oughta think
So I'm rockin all the rhymes and I'll have another drink
So the lights are flashing my mind is spinning
I feel like it is always the beginning
Of another rhyme I'm rapping M.C.'ing I rock
You ain't nothing but a car thief who must be stopped

Soft overripe fresh skeezed California females
With 3-inch cherry red press-on Lee nails
Reach into my mind for the rhymes I'm seeking
Like a garbage bag full overflowing now it's leaking
Rapunzel Rapunzel let down your hair
So I can climb up and get into your underwear
Rat soup eating test cheating no business punk
You're insecure born in the junkyard with the junk
You've gone wet look crazy and messed with your head
You f*cked around and wound up with the bald skin head
You're all mixed up like pasta primavera
Why'd you throw that chair at Geraldo Rivera man
Cause one man's ceiling is another man's floor
So get that money out of your ass you whore
I brought her upstairs onto the roof
I dogged your wife and she is a doofus
What goes around, comes around

Clean B cleaning the G spot you know that we've got
Dolemite's house and you have not
Look out my window look over the city
With two black eyes your girl ain't that pretty
Why you wanna beat that brat with a bat
Why you wanna treat your girl like that
Living in the rat race smoking rat weed
You reap what you sow when you plant the seed
Bum cheese on rye with ham and prosciutto
Got more Louie than Phil Rizzuto
What goes around, comes around

Funky Pam, F.P.

Riddle me this, brother can you handle it
Your style to my style, you can't hold a candle to it
Equinox symmetry and the balance is right
Smokin' and drinkin' on a Tuesday night
It's not how you play the game, it's how you win it
I cheat and steal and sin and I'm a cynic
For those about to rock we salute you
The dirty thoughts for dirty minds we contribute to

I once was lost, but now I'm found
The music washes over and you're one with the sound
Well, who shall inherit the earth, the meek shall
And yo I think I'm starting to peak now Al
And then the man upstairs I hope that he cares
If I had a penny for my thoughts I'd be a millionaire
We're just three M.C.'s and we're on the go
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego (Shadrach, Meshach, Abednago)

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah
Only twenty-four hours in a day
Only twelve notes that a man can play
Music for all and not just one people
And now we're gonna bust with the Putney Swope sequel
More Adidas sneakers than a plumber's got pliers
Got more suits than Jacoby & Meyers (well)
If not for my vices and my bugged-out desires
My year would be good just like Goodyear's tires
'Cause I'm out pickin' pockets at the Atlantic Antic
And nobody wants to hear you 'cause your rhymes are damn frantic
I mix business with pleasure way too much
You know, wine and women and song and such
I don't get blue, I gotta mean red streak
You don't pay the band, your friends and that's weak
Get even like Steven, like pulling a Rambo
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego (Shadrach, Meshach, Abednago)

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah
Steal from the rich and I'm out robbing banks
Give it to the poor and I always give thanks
Because they got more stories than J.D's got Salinger
I hold the title and you are the challenger
I've got money like Charles Dickens
I've got the girlies in the Couple like the Colonel's got the chickens
And I always go out dapper like Harry S. Truman
I'm madder than Mad's Alfred E. Newman
(Never gonna let them say that I don't love you)
Well, my noggin is hoggin' all kinds of thoughts
Adam Yoggin is Yauch and he's rockin' of course
Smoke the holy chalice got my own religion
Rally round the stage and check the funky dope musicians
Just like Jerry Lee Swaggert or Jerry Lee Falwell
You like Mario Andretti cause he always drives his car well

Vicious circle of reality since the day you were born
And we love the hot butter on what, the popcorn
Sippin' on wine and mackin'
Rockin' on the stage with all the hands clappin'
Ride the wave of fate it don't ride me
(Being very proud to be an M.C.)
And the man upstairs well I hope that he cares
If I had a penny for my thoughts I'd be a millionaire
Amps and crossovers under my rear hood
The bass is bumpin' from the back of my Fleetwood
They tell us what to do, hell no
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego (Shadrach, Meshach, Abednago) hey

The best in men's clothing
Call Paul's Boutique, ask for Janice
The number is 718-498-1043
That's Paul's Boutique and they're in Brooklyn

There's a girl over there
With long brown hair
I took her to the place
I threw the mattress in her face
Took off her shirt
Took off her bra
Took off her pants
You know what I saw?

Right about now I'd like to dedicate this song out to my main homie Mike D
Get on the mic, g-get on the mic
Just get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike

Let's be real and don't cloud the issue
The rhymes are dope an M.C. you must listen to
People say that they been missin' me and missin' you
Get on the mic and let's show them like we used to
You say f*ck that yo Holmes f*ck this
I'm the king Ad-Whammy you're Dick Butkus
One-half science and another half soul
His name's Mike D. not Fat Morton Jelly Roll
Got busy in Frisco fooled around in Fresno
Got over on your girlie cause you know she never says no

J-just get on the mic, just get on the mic
G-get on the mic, get on the mic Mike

Well, Mike D. is a special individual
Pulling out knots and pulling in residuals
Go to the movies get the Rolos
The cholos riding slow and low
Mike on the mic and bust with the solo
Mike my stromie don't be so selfish
Get on the mic cause you know you eat shellfish

It's 4:00 a.m. I've got the Dr. Hfuhruhurr Ale
I've got nothing to lose so I'm pissin' on the third rail
Groggy eyed and fried I'm headed for the station
D-Train ride to Coney Island vacation
Dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1 train
They'll be kicking out windows high on cocaine
And then I jump the turnstile I lost my last token
Ride between the cars pissing, smoking
Head for the last car fluorescent light blackout
Policeman told my homeboy "yo put that crack out"
You know you light up when the lights go down
And then you read the New York Post Fulton St. downtown
Same faces every day but you don't know their names
Party people going places on the D-Train

Stop that train, I wanna get on

Check it
Trench-coat wingtip going to work
And you'll be pulling a train like Captain Kirk
Pickpocket gangsters paying their debts
I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernie Goetz
Overworked and underpaid staring at the floor
Prostitutes' spandex caught in the slide doors
Now you're tuck between the stations
And it seems like an eternity
Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity
Fifty-dollar fine for disturbing the peace
The neck tortoise your Lees are creased
Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are Dunkin'
Friday night and Jamaica Queen's funkin'
Elevated platform never gonna conform
Riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm
Bust into the conductor's booth and busted out rhymes
Over the loud speaker about the hard times
Sat across from a man readin' El Diario
Riding the train down from El Barrio
Went from the station straight to Orange Julius
I brought a hot dog from who - George Drakoulias

M.C. for what I am and do
The A is for Adam and the lyrics, true
So as pray and hope and the message is sent
And I am living in the dreams that I have dreamt
Because I'm down with the three, the unstoppable three
Me and Adam and D. were born to M.C.
And my body and soul and mind are pure
Not polluted or diluted or damaged beyond cure
Just lyrics from I to you recited
Arrested, bailed but cuffed and indicted
Enter the arena as I take center stage
The lights set low and the night has come of age
Take the microphone in hand as that I am a professional
Speak my knowledge to the crowd and the ed. is special
For I am a bard but not the last one
I'm am the king and this is my castle
Dwell in realms of now but vidi those of the past
Seen a glimpse from ahead and I don't think it's gonna last
And you can bet your ass

I drop the L. when I'm skiing
I'm smoking and peaking
I put the skis on the roof almost every single weekend
Can't stop the mind-f*ck when it's rolling along
Can't stop the smooth runnin' when the shit's running strong
Broke my bindings, the lion with wings
Preaching his word in the B. Boy sing
I am one with myself as I turn to thee
Prefer the dreams to reality
I prefer my life don't need no other man's wife
Don't need no crazy lifestyle with stress and strife
But it's good to have turn to be a king for a day
Or for a week, or for a year, or for a year and a day
Come what may

I'm fishing with my boat and I'm fishing for trout
Mix the Bass Ale with the Guinness Stout
Fishing for a line inside my brain
And looking out at the world through my window pane
Every day has many colors 'cause the glass is stained
Everything has changed but remains the same
So once again the mirror raised and I see myself as clear as day
And I am going to the limits of my ultimate destiny
Feeling as though somebody were testing me
He who sees the end from the beginning of time
Looking forward through all the ages
Is, was and always shall be
Check the prophetic sections of the pages

He's in line for the Disco Day

Hello Brooklyn

New York, New York, it's a hell of a town
You know the Bronx is up and I'm Brooklyn down
Because they don't know my name they only know my initials
Building bombs in the attic for elected officials
I quit my job, I cut my hair
You know I cut my boss 'cause I don't care
You tried to get slick, you bust a little chuckle
You're gonna get smacked with my gold-finger knuckle
'Cause being as fly as me is something you never thought of
You'll be sticking up old ladies with the hand gun or the sawed-off
I'm a Buffalo Soldier, broader than Broadway
Keep keepin' on I don't care what they say
I play my stereo loud it disturbs my neighbors
I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor
'Cause I am the holder of the 3-pack Bonanza
If you open the book then you will get your hand slapped
I am the keeper of the 3-pack Bonanza
If you ask a question you will get the answer
Her breast I saw I reached I felt
M-O-N-E-Y, the belt
I stay at home just like a hermit
I got the jammy but I don't got the permit
You know why?
You got a boyfriend and his name is Slick Nick
Annabelle caught with the shrimpy limp dick
I ride around town 'cause my ride is fly
I shot a man in Brooklyn
Just to watch him die

He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
She's slippin' through his fingers as she's movin' out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost

Well if your world was all black and if your world was all white
Well then you wouldn't get much color out of life now right
Nicknamed Shamrock but my name is not Shamus
Girlies on the tippy cause my homie is famous
My name is not O'Houigheighi nor is it Brian
If I said that I was weak now, you know I'd be lyin'
Suckers try to bite they try to pursue it

You explain to a musician, they know it but they can't do it

I got Chinese eyes and Chinese suits
Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much boots
More updated on the hip-hop lingo
My favorite New York Knick was Hawthorne Wingo
Met a girl at a party and I gave her my card
Man, you know that it said Napoleon Bonaparte
Peepin' out the colors I be buggin' on Cezanne
They call me Mike D Joe Blow the Lover Man
Your face turns red as your glass of wine
That you spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time
You should be with me, you should drop that bum
'Cause I got more flavor than Fruit Striped Gum
With that big round butt of yours
I'd like to butter your muffin I'm not bluffin'
Serve you on a platter like Thanksgiving stuffin'

Here's another one for y'all to peep
It's called M-I-K-E on the M-I-C

I met this girl last night with a peculiar cackle
I laid the bait and then she took the tackle
Had too much to drink at the Red Lobster
Now the room is spinning around like the blades of a helicopter
I never met a girl that was too finicky
If the press has their way then they're going to finish me
You might know this but you've never been this see
If I ate spinach then I'd be called Spinach D
I shed light like cats shed fur
Ride around town like Raymond Burr
I'm so high that they call me Your Highness
So if you don't know me then pardon my shyness
I live in the Village wherever I go I walk to
I keep my friends around so I have someone to talk to
I play my music loud because you know it's got clout to it
It's a trip it's got a funky beat and I can bug out to it

DJ Hurricane
When Mike D's in the house, what you gonna do
I go AWOL
Adrock's in the house, what you gonna do
I go AWOL
When MCA's in the house, what you gonna do
I go AWOL
When Hurricane's in the house, what you gonna do
He goes AWOL
St. James in the house, what's you gonna do
Home-1, what you gonna do
Got busy in the house, what you gonna do
Dust Bros. in the house, what you gonna do
Warren G. in the house, what you gonna do
Lou Gains in the house, what you gonna do
Hollis crew, what you gonna do
John Mish in the house, what you gonna do
Killa Cutty in the house, what you gonna do
Jannet J. in the house
Pat Bain's in the house
Richard Consen's in the house
Good night Amsterdamn
Now I want you all to break this down
To all the girls
All the girls