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Licensed to Ill

Rhymin' and Stealin'
The New Style
She's Crafty
Posse in Effect
Slow Ride
Girls
Fight for Your Right
No Sleep till Brooklyn
Paul Revere
Hold It Now Hit It
Brass Monkey
Slow and Low
Time to Get Ill

Song Spotlight

Rhymin' and Stealin'

Because mutiny on the bounty's what we're all about
I'm gonna board your ship and turn it on out
No soft sucker with a parrot on his shoulder
'Cause I'm bad, gettin' bolder, cold-cold, getting colder
Terrorizing suckers on the seven seas
And if you've got beef, you'll get capped in the knees
We got sixteen men on a dead man's chest
And I shot those suckers and I'll shoot the rest

Most illingest b-boy, I got that feeling
'Cause I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

Snatching gold chains, vicking pieces of eight
I got your money and your honey and the fly name plate
We got wenches on the benches and bitties with titties
Housing all girlies from city to city
One for all and all for one
Taking out MCs with a big shotgun
All for one and one for all
Because the Beastie Boys have gone AWOL
Friggin' in the riggin' and cuttin' your throat
Big biting suckers gettin' thrown in the moat
We got maidens and wenches, man, they're on the ace
Ah, Captain Bly is gonna die when we break his face

Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves
Ali Baba and the forty thieves

Torching and crakin' and rhymin' and stealin'
Robbin' and raping, busting two in the ceiling
I'm wheelin', I'm dealin', I'm drinking, not thinking
Never cower, never shower, and I'm always stinking
Yo-ho-ho and a pint of Brass Monkey
And when my girlie shakes her hips, she sure gets funky
Skirt chasin', free basin', killin' every village
We drink and rob and rhyme and pillage

Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

I was...
I've been drinkin' my rum, a def son of a gun
I fought the law and I cold won
Black Beard's weak, Moby Dick's on the tick
'Cause I pull out the jammy and squeeze off six
My pistol is loaded, I shot Betty Crocker
Deliver Colonel Sanders down to Davey Jones' locker
Rhymin' and stealin' in a drunken state
And I'll be rockin' my rhymes all the way to Hell's gate

Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
And I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'
Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'
Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
'Cause I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'
Most illingest b-boy, well, I got that feeling
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

Most chillinest b-boy
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'
Most killingest b-boy
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'
Most dustin' out b-boy
I tossin' my dust
Most finkiest b-boy
I'm doin' that finkin'
Most rhyminest b-boy
I'm stretchin' my shade
Most shootinest b-boy
I think you're shit
Most rhyminest b-boy
I'll steal your shit, homeboy
Most taxinest b-boy
I tax you boy
Most illingest, illingest, illingest, b-boy
Waxin' all y'all squares
Yeah
[Top]

Song Spotlight

The New Style

And on the cool checkin'
Center stage on the mic
And we're puttin' it on wax
It's the new style

Four and three and two and one (what up?)
And when I'm on the mic the suckers run (word)
Down with Adrock and Mike D and you ain't
And I got more juice than Picasso got paint
Got rhymes that are rough and rhymes that are slick
I'm not surprised you're on my dick (Mike D)

B-E-A-S-T-I-E (what up, Mike D?)
Ah, yeah, that's me
I got franks and pork and beans
Always bust the new routines
I get it, I got it, I know it's good
The rhymes I write, you wish you would

I'm never in training, my voice is not straining
People always biting and I'm sick of complaining
So I went into the locker room during classes
Went into your locker and I smashed your glasses
You're from Secausus, I'm from Manhattan
You're jealous of me because your girlfriend is cattin'

There it is
Kick it

Father to many, married to none
And in case you're unaware, I carry a gun (word)
Stepped into the party, the place was overpacked
Saw the kid that dissed my homeboy and shot him in the back
Man, I had to get a beeper 'cause my phone is tapped
You better keep your mouth shut 'cause I'm fully strapped
I got money in the bank, I can still get high
That's why your girlfriend thinks that I'm so fly
I've got money and juice, twin sisters in my bed
Their father had envy so I shot him in the head

If I played guitar I'd be Jimmy Page
The girlies I like are underage (check it)
Girls with boyfriends are the kind I like
I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike
My father he's jealous 'cause I'm making that green (what up?)
I've got the girlie's numbers from the places I been

There it is
Kick it

You wanna know why, because I'm...
October 31st, that is my date of birth
I got to the party, you know what I did, the Smurf
Taxing all females from coast to coast
And when I get my fill, I'm chilly most
We ragtag girlies back at the hotel
And then we all switch places when I ring the bell
I chill at White Castle 'cause it's the best
But I'm fly at Fat Burger when (when he's) I'm way out west (check it)
K-I-N-G-A-D (whammy)
All the fly ladies, they are on my jammy
Went to the prom, wore the fly blue rental
Got six girlies in my Lincoln Continental
I met a girl at the party and she started to flirt
I told her some rhymes and she pulled up her skirt (check it)
Spent some bank, I got a high-powered jumbo
Rolled up a wooly (what did he do?) and I watched Columbo

Let me clear my throat
Kick it over here baby pop
And let all the fly skimmies feel the beat
Mmm...drop

Coolin' on the corner on a hot summer's day
Just me and my posse and MCA
A lot of beer, a lot of girls, and a lot of cursing
Twenty-two automatic on my person
Got my hand in my pocket and my finger's on the trigger
My posse's getting big and my posse's getting bigger
Some voices got treble, some voices got bass
We got the kind of voices that are in your face
Like the bun to the burger and like the burger to the bun
Like the cherry to the apple to the peach to the plum
I'm the king of the ave
I'm the king of the block
Well, I'm MCA
And I'm the King Adrock
Well, I'm Mike D, I got all the fly juice
On the checkin' at the party on the Forty Deuce
Walking down the block with the fresh fly threads
Beastie Boys fly the biggest heads

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho...
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho...
Brooklyn, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho...

[Top]

Song Spotlight

She's Crafty

Well, this girl came up to me, she says she's new in town
But the crew been said they seen her around
I thought they were right but I didn't want to know
The girlie was def and she wanted to go
I think her name is Lucy but they all call her Loose
I think I thought I seen her on Eighth and Forty Deuce
The next think she said, "My place or yours?"
Let's kick some bass behind closed doors
We got into the cab, the cab driver said
He recognized my girlie from the back of her head
He said a little something about tip to base
So I made him stop the cab to get out of the place
I shouldn't have looked back, man, I'll always regret it
Something's going on and I'll probably never get it
She was crying like a baby (stupid dumb)
It's just too bad that girl's a bum

She's crafty, she gets around
She's crafty, she's always down
She's crafty, she's got a gripe
She's crafty, and she's just my type
She's crafty

I spent my last dollar to buy a Sabrett
When I seen this girl I could never forget
Now I like nothing better than a pretty girl smile
And I haven't seen a smile that pretty in a while
The girl came up to me, she said she loved the show
I asked her to come home and she couldn't say no
We got to the crib and there was Adam and D
We didn't say a word, they just stared at me
I said, "I don't know her-I just met her tonight"
And Adrock started hiding everything in sight
D pulled me over said "Hide your gold"
The girl is crafty like ice is cold
The girl is crafty, she knows all the moves
I started playing records, she knew all the grooves
He thought she was a thief and D was right
But I just figured she'd spend the night
When I woke up late in the afternoon
She had taken all the things from inside his room
I found myself sleeping in the middle of the floor
She had taken the bed and the chest of drawers
The mirror, the TV, the new guitar cord
My remote control and my old skateboard
She robbed us blind, she took all we owned
And the boys blamed me for bringing her home

She's crafty, she gets around
She's crafty, she's always down
She's crafty, she's got a gripe
She's crafty and she's just my type
She's crafty

Uh, yeah

She's crafty, she gets around
She's crafty, she's always down
She's crafty, she's got a gripe
She's crafty and she's just my type
She's crafty, she gets around
She's crafty, man, she's always down
She's crafty, she's got a gripe
She's crafty and she's just my type
She's crafty
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Posse in Effect

Yes-yes y'all, and you don't stop (stop)
Keep it on (on) and shockin' the place (yo, Yauch)
Well, I'm MCA, I got nothin' to prove
Pay attention, my intention is to bust a move (what?)
I drink quarts and cans and bottles and sixes (what up?)
Between the turntables keep the vodka and the mixes

Well, I'm Mike D, I got the deuces wild (yeah) that's right
A list of girlies numbers that I've dialed
I do the Smurf, the Popeye, and the Jerry Lewis
I like Bullwinkle but I don't like moose

Well, I'm schoolin' in the boys' room, coolin' by the locker (well)
All the girls in class know that I'm the cool rocker (uh, yeah)
Punk in the hall, man, I should of, ought to hit him
Had the fresh rhymes and the kid cold bite 'em

Smokin' in the boys room is what I do best
While you were at a party your girlfriend fessed
I keep a pistol in my pocket so you better be cautious
Fly around the world but it makes me nauseous
Mike D's day off everyday of the week (ah, D, keep it on)
I got to the party and I did the freak

I got a girl in the castle and one in the pagoda
You know, I got rhymes like Abe Vigoda
I'm a def Manhattan killer, a rhyme driller
A mic in my hand (bust it) and a mouth full of Miller

I got a hat, not a visor, I drink Budweiser
The turntables up on the drum riser
The needle's in the groove and the vinyl's on the platter
I know that I'm fly, man, there's no need to flatter
I travel around the globe, it's keeping girlies dizzy
My name's Mike D, now watch me get busy y'all

G-g-get busy y'all
G-g-get busy y'all


You're a fake wearin' sucker whose gold got rusted
Rusted, rusted, rusted, rusted
Cheaper than a hot dog with no mustard
Mustard, mustard, mustard
You tried to steal my fresh and you got cold busted
Busted, busted, busted
Because your crew's all soft and I'm disgusted
Disgusted, disgusted

I'm from downtown from the city of Manhattan
I got a lot of girlies and not one's cattin'
My posse's in effect and we're doin' the do
And we got more rhymes than your whole damn crew
Caught you poppin' that weak and you must of been dusted
Dusted, dusted, dusted
Stuck you head in the toilet and stone cold flushed it
Flushed it, flushed it, flushed it
Word
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Slow Ride

They got a committee to get me off the block
'Cause I say my rhymes loud and I say 'em nonstop
Because being bad news is what we're all about
We went to White Castle and we got thrown out

I got my boy Mike D, I got the King Adrock
I got the jammy with the ammo inside my sock
I shot homeboy but the bullet was a dud
So I reached in the Miller cooler, grabbed a cool Bud

Slow riding gun, hidin' on the go
I'm fly like an eagle and I drink Old Crow
I'm the king of the classroom, coolin' in the back
My teacher had beef so I gave her a smack
She chased me out of class, she was strapped with a ruler
Went to the bathroom, rolled myself a wooler
With bottle in hand at the microphone stand
Ay, yo, homeboy, what you drinkin', man?

I got money, I got juice
I got to the party and I got loose
I got rhythms, I got rhymes
I got the girlies with the def behinds
I got ill, I got busted
I got dust and I got dusted
I got gold, I got funky
I got the new dance they call the Brass Monkey

Because I'm hard hittin', always biten, cool as hell
I got the trees on my mirror so my car won't smell
Sittin' around the house, gettin' high and watchin' tube
I'm eating Colonel's chicken, drinkin' Heineken brew
And I'm a gangster, I'm a prankster, I'm the king of the ave
And I'm hated confrontated for the juice that I have
All the fine ladies are making a fuss
But I can't pay attention 'cause I'm on that dust
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Girls

All I really want is girls
And in the morning it's girls
'Cause in the evening it's girls

I like the way that they walk
And it's chill to hear them talk
And I can always make them smile
From White Castle to the Nile

Back in the day
There was this girl around the way
She liked by home-piece MCA
He said he would not give her play
I asked him, "Please," he said, "You may"
Her pants were tight and that's okay
If she would dance I would DJ
We took a walk down to the bay

I hope she'll say
"Hey, me and you should hit the hay"
I asked her out, she said "No way"
I should have probably guessed her gay
So I broke north with no delay
I heard she moved real far away
That was two years ago this May
I seen her just the other day

Jockin' Mike D to my dismay

Girls to do the dishes
Girls to clean up my room
Girls to do the laundry
Girls and in the bathroom

Girls
That's all I really want is girls
Two at a time, I want girls
With new wave hairdos, I want girls
I ought to whip out my girls
Girls, girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls, girls
Girls, (girrrrrrrrrrrl) girls, girls, girls
Girls

Yeah
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Fight for Your Right

Kick it

You wake up late for school, man, you don't wanna go
You ask your mom "please," but she still says "no"
You missed two classes and no homework
But your teacher preaches class like you're some kind of jerk

You got to fight for your right to party

Your pop caught you smoking and he said "no way"
That hypocrite smokes two packs a day
Man, living at home is such a drag
Now your mom threw away your best porno mag (busted)

You got to fight for your right to party
You got to fight

Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wear
I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut that hair
Your mom busted in and said "what's that noise?"
Aw, mom, you're just jealous it's the Beastie Boys

You got to fight for your right to party
You got to fight for your right to party

Parrrrrrty
Parrrrrrty
[Top]

Song Spotlight

No Sleep till Brooklyn

No sleep till Brooklyn

Foot on the pedal, never ever false metal
Engine running hotter than a boiling kettle
My job's ain't a job, it's a damn good time
City to city, I'm running my rhymes

On location, touring around the nation
Beastie Boys always on vacation
Itchy trigger finger but a stable turntable
I do what I do best because I'm illing and able
Ain't no faking, your money I'm taking
Going coast to coast, watching all the girlies shaking
While you're at the job working nine to five
The Beastie Boys at the Garden, cold kickin' it live

No sleep till
Another place, another train
Another bottle in the brain
Another girl, another fight
Another drive all night

Our manager's crazy, he always smokes dust
He's got his own room at the back of the bus
Tour around the world, you rock around the clock
Plane to hotel, girls on the jock
We're thrashing hotels like it's going out of style
Gettin' paid along the way 'cause it's worth your while
Four on the floor, Adrock's out the door
MCA's in the back 'cause he's skeezin' with a whore
We got a safe in the trunk with money in a stack
With dice in the front and Brooklyn's in the back
White boys got more rhymes

No sleep till
No sleep till Brooklyn
No sleep till Brooklyn

Ain't seen the light since we started this band
So, MCA, get on the mic, my man

Born and bred Brooklyn, the USA
They call me Adam Yauch but I'm MCA
Like a lemon to a lime, a lime to a lemon
I sip the def ale with all the fly women

Got limos, arena, the TV shows
Autograph pictures and classy hoes

Step off, Holmes, get out of my way
Taxing little girlies from here to LA

Waking up before I get to sleep
'Cause I'll be rocking this party eight days a week

No sleep till
No sleep till Brooklyn
No sleep till Brooklyn
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (yeah)

No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
No (no) sleep (sleep) till Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Paul Revere

Now here's a little story I got to tell
About three bad brothers you know so well
It started way back in history
With Adrock, MCA, and me, Mike D
Been had a little horsey named Paul Revere
Just me and my horsey and a quart of beer
Riding across the land, kicking up sand
Sheriff's posse on my tail 'cause I'm in demand
One lonely Beastie I be
All by myself without nobody
The sun is beating down on my baseball hat
The air is gettin' hot, the beer is getting flat
Lookin' for a girl, I ran into a guy
His name is MCA, I said "howdy," he said "hi"

He told a little story that sounded well-rehearsed
Four days on the run and that he's dying of thirst
The brew was in my hand and he was on my tip
His voice was hoarse, his throat was dry, he asked me for a sip
He said, "Can I get some?"
I said, "You can't get none"
Had a chance to run
He pulled out his shotgun
Quick on the draw, I thought I'd be dead
He put the gun to my head and this is what he said

Now my name is MCA, I've got a license to kill (yeah)
I think you know what time it is, it's time to get ill (yeah)
Now what do we have here, an outlaw and his beer
I run this land, you understand, I make myself clear
We stepped into the wind, he had a gun, I had a grin
You think this story's over but it's ready to begin

Now I got the gun, you got the brew
You got two choices of what you can do
It's not a tough decision as you can see
I can blow you away or you can ride with me
I said, "I'll ride with you if you can get me to the border
The sheriff's after me for what I did to his daughter
I did it like this, I did it like that
I did it with a whiffleball bat"
So I'm on the run, the cop's got my gun
And right about now, it's time to have some fun
The King Adrock, that is my name
And I know the fly spot where they got the champagne

We rode for six hours then we hit the spot
The beat was a bumping and the girlies was hot
This dude was staring like he knows who we are
We took the empty spot next to him at the bar
MCA said, "Yippy yo, you know this kid?"
I said, "I didn't" but I know he did
The kid said, "Get ready 'cause this ain't funny
My name's Mike D and I'm about to get money"
Pulled out the jammy and aimed it at the sky
He yelled, "Stick 'em up!" and let two fly
Hands went up and people hit the floor
He wasted two kids that ran for the door

I'm Mike D and I get respect
Your cash and your jewelry is what I expect
MCA was with it and he's my ace
So I grabbed the piano player and I punched him in the face
The piano player's out, the music stopped
His boy had beef and he got dropped
Mike D grabbed the money, MCA snatched the gold
I grabbed two girlies and a beer that's cold
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Hold It Now Hit It

Hold it now, hit it
Yo, Leeroy

Ahh, yeah, yeah, yeah
Why don't you hook up that def jam right about now?

Now I chill real ill when I start to chill
When I fill my pockets with a knot of dollar bills
Sipping pints of ale out the window sill
When I get my fill I'm chilly-chill
Now I just got home because I'm out on bail
What's the time, it's time to buy ale
Peter eater, parking meter, all of the time
If I run out of ale, it's Thunderbird wine
Miller drinking, chicken eating, he dresses so fly
I got friends in high places that are keeping me high
Dip down with Mike D and it ain't no hassle
I got the ladies of the eighties from here to White Castle

Hold it now, hit it
Yo, Leeroy
It's my drum, it's my, hold it now, it's my rhyme


Now I'm Adam Yauch in the place to be
And all the girls are on me 'cause I'm down with Mike D
I'm down with Mike D and it ain't no baloney
For real, not phony O.E. and Rice-a-Roni
I come out at night 'cause I sleep all day
Well, I'm the King Adrock and he's MCA
Well, I'm cruisin', I'm bruisin', I'm never ever losing
I'm in my car I'm going far and dust is what I'm using
Around the way is where I'm from
And I'm from Manhattan and I'm not a bum
Because you're pud-slapping, ball-flapping, you got that juice
My name's Mike D and I can do that Jerry Lewis

Hold it now, hit it
Yo, Leeroy

Yo, that was real def, man, try that again, man
I like that def stuff, boy

Hip-hoppin' and body rockin', doin' the do
Beer drinking, breath stinking, sniffing glue
Belly flipping, always illing, busting caps
My name's Mike D and I write my own snaps
I'm a peep show seeking on the Forty Deuce
I'm a killer at large and I'm on the loose
Pistol packing, Monkey drinking, no money bum
I come from Brooklyn 'cause that's where I'm from
Cheap-skate, perpetrating, money-hungry jerk
Everyday I drink O.E. and I don't go to work
You drippy nose knucklehead, you're wet behind the ears
You like men and we like beer

Hold it now, hit it
Yo, Leeroy

Bust that choco-lotto
What, huh, yo, man, pass that over here, man, alright

King of the Ave with the def female
You're rhyming and stealin' with the freshest ale
King cooling at the crib, watching my TV
Ed Norton, Ted Knight, and Mr E-D
Pump it up, homeboy, just don't stop
Chef Boyardee cooling on the pot
I take no slack 'cause I got the knack
I'm never dusting out 'cause I torched that crack
The King Adrock that is my name
You all drinking Moet and we got the champagne
A quarter droppin', going shoppin', buying wigs
Surgeon general, cut professor, DJ Thigs

Hold it now, hit it
Hit it
Hold it now, hit it
Yo, Leeroy
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Brass Monkey

Brass Monkey, that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey
Brass

Got this dance that's more than real
Drink Brass Monkey, here's how you feel
You put your left leg down, your right leg up
Tilt your head back, let's finish the cup
MCA with the bottle, D rocks the can
Adrock gets nice with Charlie Chan
We're offered Moet, we don't mind Chivas
Wherever we go, we bring the Monkey with us
Adrock drinks three, Mike D is D
Double R foots the bill most definitely
I drink Brass Monkey and I rock well
I got a castle in Brooklyn, that's where I dwell

Brass Monkey, that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey
Brass

Because
'Cause I drink it anytime and anyplace
When it's time to get ill, I pour it on my face
Monkey tastes def when you pour it on ice
Come on, y'all, it's time to get nice
Coolin' by the lockers, getting kind of funky
Me and the crew, we're drinking Brass Monkey
This girl walked by, she gave me the eye
I reached in the locker, grabbed the Spanish Fly
I put it with the Monkey, mixed it in the cup
Went over to the girl, "Yo, baby, what's up?"
I offered her a sip-sip, the girl she gave me lip-lip
It did begin the stuff wore in and now she's on my tip

Brass Monkey, that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey
Brass

Step up to the bar, put the girl down
She takes a big gulp and slaps it around
You take a sip, you can do it, you get right to it
We had a case in the place and we went right through it
You got a dry martini, you thinking you're cool
I'll take your place at the bar, I smack you off your stool
I'll down a '40 dog in a single gulp
And if you got beef, you'll get beat to a pulp
Monkey and parties and reelin' and rockin'
Def-def girls-girls all y'all jockin'
The song and dance keeping you in a trance
If you don't buy my record, I got my advance
I drink it, I think it, I see it, I be it
I love Brass Monkey but I won't give D it
We got the bottle and you got the cup
Come on everybody let's get ffffff

Brass Monkey, that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey
Brass Monkey, that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey

Brass Monkey
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Slow and Low

Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo

It's never old school, all brand new
So everybody catch the bugaloo flu
Not like a fever, not like a cold
But the beats are clear, the rhymes are bold
So don't see a doctor or see a nurse
Just listen to the music, first things first
First of all, get off the wall
It's time to party so have a ball
We slowed it on down so get the hell up
Like a volcano, I'll erupt
We got determination, bass and highs
White Castle fries only come in one size
What you see is what you get
And you ain't seen nothing yet

So let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo

I do not sing but I make a def song
You could live your whole life, and I hope you live long
On the Gong Show, we won't get gonged
We're the Beastie Boys, not Cheech and Chong
Strong as an ox, fresh out the box
The crowd is so live, they're coming in flocks
And when we go on, the crowd goes off
It's all hard rock, there's nothing soft

Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo

COD

So let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
And let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo

We don't only rock the house but we'll house we rock
We don't stroll but we roll straight to the top
MCA, Adrock, Mike D makes three
And we can do it like this in the place to be
When I'm recorded, you'll be rewarded
I know my song is def 'cause you all applauded
Not PCP or LSD, just me, Mike D, in the place to be
This is not free, you must pay a fee
Cash on delivery like a COD

So let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo

The beat is slow in order to dance
I wanna hear I do's and no I can't
First you move your legs and then your arms
It's not fast and nervous, this dance is calm
It's truly stable and you ought to be able
To dance to the record when it's on the turntable

So let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
Slow and low, that is the tempo
Let it flow, let yourself go
, Slow and low that is the tempo
[Top]

Song Spotlight

Time to Get Ill

What's the time?
It's time to get ill
And what's the time?
It's time to get ill
So what's the time?
It's time to get ill
Now what's the time?
It's time to get ill

I'm not the type of person who likes to waste my time
And when I'm on the mic, I just say my rhymes
And I'm out on bail, the check is in the mail
They can sentence me to life but I won't go to jail
I'm cool, calm, collected, from class I was ejected
Just me, Mike D and MCA, we're rarely disrespected
I got all the time that I need to kill
What's that time?
It's time to get ill

You been fully captivated by that funky ass bass
Your girlfriend screams when MCA's in the place
He stumbles in the room with the Chivas in his hand
Cold chillin' on the spot at the microphone stand
I'd have the pedal to the metal if I had a car
But I'm chiller with the Miller, cold coolin' at the bar
I can drink a quart of Monkey and still stand still
What's the time?
It's time to get ill

Yeah
Look-lookin'-look-look-look-look-lookin' at my Gucci, it's about that time
Lookin' at my gucci, it's about that time


Deee...
Went outside my house, I went down to the deli
I spent my last dime to refill my fat belly
I got rhymes galime, I got rhymes galilla
And I got more rhymes than Phyllis Diller
MCA takes a stand, man, you're in command
Homeboy, turn it out and don't give a damn
Man, my name is MCA, I've got a license to kill
And what's the time?
It's time to get ill

I'm Mr. Ed
The famous Mr. Ed

Riding down the block...uh-huh...

Riding down the block with my box in my hand
Today I feel like chillin' just as chill as I can
Coolin' on the corner with a forty of O.E.
'Cause me and MCA, we're down with Mike D
When I run a jam, I don't give a damn
When I'm throwing bass, I say, "Thank you, ma'am"
Fuel injected, rhyme connected, running things
Well, I'm the King Adrock and I'm the king of all kings
I'm looking for a spot, things are gettin' hot
I'm MCA, I'm here to stay and you, sir, you are not
Oh, no, it could not be, it's such a sight to see
It's such a trip, you're on my tip, so listen to Mike D
My work is my play, 'cause I'm playing when I work
My name's Mike D as you can see and I can do the Jerk
MCA, Adrock, Mike D, it's chill
What's the time?
It's time to get ill

Now what's the time?
It's time to get ill
And what's the time?
It's time to get ill
So what's the time?
It's time to get ill
And what's the time?
It's time to get ill
[Top]

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