Make Some Noise

Yeah, get up
Yeah
Uh

Yes, here we go again
Give you more, nothing lesser
Back on the mic, it's the anti-depressor
Adrock--no pressure--yes, we need this
The best is yet to come and, yes, believe this

Leggo my Eggo while I flex my ego
Sip on Prosecco, dressed up tuxedo
Sipping coffee, playing keno in the casino
Want a lucky number, ask Mike Dino

I burn the competition like a flame thrower
My rhymes age like wine as I get older
I'm getting bolder, competition is wanin'
I got the ball and I see the lane and

We got a party on the left, a party on the right
We gotta party for the motherfuckin' right to fight
Make some noise if you're with me
You gotta make some noise if you're with me

Crazy, crazy, crazy

Our resurrection by popular election
Get paid every year like tax collection
Hear my perfection, a rotary connection
Taking MCs down by lethal rap injection

I'm like an ornithologist when I get miffed
You must have drank a Fizzy Lifting Drink and you got lifted
And sifted, I'm just riffin'
When I catch MCs, it's time for wing-clippin'

I fly like a hawk, or better yet a seagull
I sniff suckers out like a beagle
My ego is off and runnin' and gone
'Cause I'm about the best and if you fess well, that's wrong

We got a--
We got a party on the left, a party on the right
We gotta party for the motherfuckin' right to fight
Make some noise if you're with me
You gotta make some noise if you're with me

Crazy, crazy, crazy

The break is crazy
Crazy-crazy

Pass me the scalpel, I'll make an incision
I'll cut off the part of your brain that does the bitchin'
Put it in formaldehyde and put it on the shelf
You can show it to your friends and say, "That's my old self"

Can't do me nothing, can't tell me nadda
Don't bug me now because I'm doin' the Lambada (bada!)
The forbidden dance (wha!)
Here's my chance
To make romance in my b-boys stance

Parlay my romancing into financing
Opened up a restaurant with Ted Danson
The roaches check in, but they never check out
I set the record straight, no doubt

We got a--
We got a party on the left, a party on the right
We gotta party for the motherfuckin' right to fight
Make some noise if you're with me
You gotta make some noise if you're with me

Nonstop Disco Powerpack

How you feeling, Adrock?

Well, I'm feeling well
Bonafide, qualified, with a story to tell

How you feeling, Mike D?

Well, I feel all good
All day it's how we play in the neighborhood

How you feeling, MCA?

Well, I feel right
I speak my words on the track 'cause the track sounds tight

Well, if you're feeling good and you're feeling right
Uh, somebody step up and grab the mic

Now hello everybody and how you been?
It's Adrock rappin' on the microphone again
I got grace, class, style, finesse, and debonair
Murdalize motherfuckers 'cause I just don't care
The MC Whisperer, kinda like a trainer
I take sucker rappers, I put 'em through a strainer
Like macaroni 'cause their shit sounds cheesy
Watch how it's done, boy, it looks easy
I'm the nonstop, going off, king pin, microphone boss
Do my own thing, you can't afford the cost
Of my rhyme style, take you through a turnstile
'Cause I'm live and direct, and I'm wicked and wild
Because I'm back on a roll, got total control
I flow like the water out your toilet bowl
Your style is cheap, boy, just like a dutch
You know you're not smokin' on the microphone much
There's a certain special talent that I never lack
Huh-ha, huh-ha, and that's a fact
'Cause we shine like the chrome on a Cadillac
You better break a wishbone 'cause we're never wack
Said we're never that and that is that
We're the nonstop disco powerpack
Uh, that's right, we go all night
Who gonna be the next to bless the mic?

Now this is the way we run it down
We getting you high on the funky sound
This is the way we get it on
B-boys in the house 'til the break of dawn

See, I mix my style up like a cement mixer
Smooth and fix ya, like a rhyme elixir
I said, "Yo, sound man, make Mike's mic louder"
Don't make me sound cheap like a box of douche powder
I max and relax, champagne mojito
Don't go commando, don't know bandito
Je m'appelle Michel Perignon
Me and Claude in the chateau and we got it going on
Quincy's in the hot tub like it's '73
Looking over his shoulder and he's looking at me
I'm all white in the face, towel around my waist
What's up with that watch inside that glass case?
I go to make my move, sneak out of the place
Undetected, not leaving a trace
Party's done, microphone's wrecked
Wine's been drunk and heads been checked
I see one last profiterole and make my play
And pass the microphone to MCA

Nonstop, on the top, and you clock, when we rock
Never fakin', no mistakin', we be makin' hip hop

So come on everybody get down...yeah

Now it's a spot check, hit the deck count down
'Cause I'm a break it down for you, how we run it down
Pound for pound, keep the bass lines round
I seen you watchin', jockin', clockin' my sound
But, for real, I'm real glad I grew up in hip hop
Still got mad love for a record called "Beat Bop"
It meant a lot spinning on my Walkman
Shout out to the African Bam
And to the S to the P the double O-N-Y
The one MC who you can't deny
I'd listen to the records and they'd inspire
Sit down to write and the pen breathes fire
Construct a rhyme with specific intent
Flowin' from the brain cells, right through the pen
And then I put the book down, grab ahold the mic
Words flowin' so cold, turn water to ice
Come through the wire, saturate the tape
You put me in the mix, nice it up with the plate
And then they press it on wax, sell it in the store
The DJ spin the record out on the dance floor
Comin' through the speakers to shake your eardrum
Brain cells get lit, then you hear where we're comin' from

Well, Adrock (huh) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Mike D, (huh) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
MCA, (a-yeah) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Beatsie Boys in the house don't stop

Ok

OKAAAYYYY!!!
You talk and talk and you just can't stop
A word comes to mind, it's "crock"
What you say is lackluster
Plus it seems you're trying to pull a filibuster

Yeah, right, yeah, ok
Tell me something new to start the day
Said "See you later, when you coming home?"
It's a gift, it's a curse, it's the telephone

Now let's start over with a nice clean slate
Please stop stressing with the hurry-up-wait
Heard you the first time, that sounds great
But back up out my space, ok

Yeah-yeah, right-right, ok

Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok

Wrapped in pink ribbon, so pretty
My name's Mike D from New York City
I guess it's all in the mind
But I fell behind

I thought it'd be smooth like a nice Nutter Butter
But I start to cringe every word that you utter
Yes, you said you are a big deal
But, money, calm down for real

Got to control my mind
Got to slow down, rewind
What is going on in my head?
Why's the sky gone red?

What is going on in my head?
Why's the sky gone red?
What is going on in my head?

What is going on in my head?
Why's the sky gone red?
What is going on in my head?
Why's the sky gone red?

What is going on in my head?
What is going on in my head?

Now, I don't give a fuck who the hell you are
Please stop shouting in your cellular
I never asked to be part of your day
So please stop shouting in your phone, ok?

You lie like a plain clothes cop
Take a minute, take a look, and take stock
Take a minute, get your mind unlocked
Get open and I'll throw you the rock

What is going on in my head?
And why has the sky gone all red?
Be kind, rewind
Or at least tell me what it is I did
Or just say what should I say
Hmm, ok?

Yeah-yeah, right-right, ok

Ok
Ok
Ok
Ok

Too Many Rappers (New Reactionaries Version)

Mic check, mic check
One, two, three
Too many rappers and there's still not enough MCs
It goes three, two, one
MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done
Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys
We can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can point 'em out
So if you've got something on your mind, let it out

Like a Nexus-6, comin' home to roost
Handheld 58 when it's time to get loose
Don't need the ear goggles, just put me through the speakers
Like a scientist with tubes and beakers
Have MCs over my house and fix 'em brunch
But you rappers? We goin' out, goin' dutch
So pass me the sword, I'll start swingin'
Just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission

Because I'm back with a bang, boogie oogie oogie
Strawberry Letter 23 like Shuggie
Oh my god, just look at me
Grandpa been rappin' since '83
I'm supersonic like J.J. Fad
Got crazy-ass shit pullin' out the bag
Don't forget the tartar sauce, yo! 'cause it's sad
All these crab rappers, they're rapping like crabs

I have carte blanche, the vagabond
Nas is the narcissist
My pockets are rotund
I'm no killer
But compared to you, I'm more realer
You ain't a shot caller mobster or a drug dealer
A slug peeler, you're not
Mafioso, no
You ain't got the cut-throat in ya, beginner
I ain't tryin' to hear your racket
You work for police, dog, you snitch, you rat
You wear that jacket

How many rappers must get dissed?
Gimme eight bars and watch me bless this
I start to reminisce when I miss
The real hip hop with which I persist
Like rum and mojitos
Bullets and banditos
Matzo balls and soup
Jackets and troop
Yes, y'all! This is one is for the history books
Nasty Nas, what's the word?
Count it off in the hook

One, two, three
Too many rappers and there's still not enough MCs
It goes three, two, one
MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done
Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys
We can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can point 'em out
So if you've got something on your mind, let it out

'Cause this the type of lyric that goes inside your brain
To blow you bullshit rappers straight out the frame
My lyrics spin 'round like a hurricane twister
So get your hologram off of Wolf Blitzer
Too many rappers to shake a stick at
I ought to charge a tax for every weak rap I had to listen to
'Cause we've been makin' $tack$ like Stax Records
My squad, we got a pact
We're never comin' wack

To all you crab rappers, and hackers, and circuit benders tweaked on Splenda
I take the cake, I stole the mould
The golden microphone, well, that's mine to hold
Now why all these biters all up in my crotchspace
Sniffin', buffin', huffin'
And mean muggin' with the Blimpie Bluffin
Back up off me, sucker! You ain't sayin' nothin'!

I'm broader than Broadway
I was the project hallway
Dual tape recorder
Lacing oratorials all day
I'm just gettin' started on this beat, this is foreplay
And when the song's finished, I can sing along with this
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louboutin steppers
I hear Russian blonde's the wettest
But anyway, y'all better pay homage to my fellas
And that's what's on my mind and on the rhyme
Who's next up?

Mike D, the man of mystery
History in the making and now we're taking
Titles, awards, and accolades
Skewer the competition as I sharpen my blades
We come together like peanut butter and sandwiches
Like pen and paper, like Picasso and canvases
Rockin' stadiums to shitty bars
Go back in time, send a fax from my car

One, two, three
Too many rappers and there's still not enough MCs
It goes three, two, one
MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done
Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys
We can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can point 'em out
So if you've got something on your mind, let it out

Say It

To the heart of the matter, the mic I shatter
So cold on the mic, I make your teeth chatter
While you climb the corporate ladder
To make your pockets fatter
We be flipping styles like pancake batter

Looking through your binos, spying on me
But I'm running like a rhino on a drinking spree
You call yourself an MC, but what's your truth?
Gotta let it loose inside the toll booth

Suckers sniffin' on socks, chewin' on rocks
No complication, want the combination to the lock
You wanna get inside, well, then you best knock-knock
And when you get on, you got to rock nonstop

Once it hits your mind, what'cha gonna do?
Don't keep it inside, you've got to
SAY IT!
Let it out, let it out
SCREAM IT!
Gonna shout, gonna shout
WRITE IT!
Put it out, put it out
SAY IT!
Get it out, get it out

Watch out, come again now, sucker

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...

Well, I can feel it in my bloodstream, see it in their eyes
People lining up for their own demise
To help the man make weapons to monetize
Corporate violence, we can't abide

You can keep your bottle service and your cabana
Bust your ass drunk like you slipped on a banana
Like knick-knack, patty whack, you've got to let it out
From the mind to the mic, to the word to a shout

Mind to the rhyme, paper to the pen
The brand new dance called the David Rodigan
You sure you really wanna let me begin
You can't stop me rhymin' when I'm on, I'm all in

Life is good and then it gets you
Stuff you thought, it comes true
Once it hits your mind, what'cha gonna do?
Don't keep it inside, you've got to
SAY IT!
Let it out, let it out
SCREAM IT!
Gonna shout, gonna shout
WRITE IT!
Put it out, put it out
SAY IT!
Get it out, get it out

Watch out, come again now, sucker
Watch out, come again now, sucker (uh, suckers)
Watch out, come again now, sucker
Watch out, come again now, sucker (uh, suckers)

The Bill Harper Collection

Another official selection from the Bill Harper collection

"Hey, Adam, it's Bill...umm, thanks"

Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win

Uh, Beastie Boys, Santigold
Let's do this, y'all
Santigold

Let's go!

It's hot here, gotta say it's so
I got you right where I want
Got an honest face so you turn your back (Santigold!)
When in doubt, run up your attack
At one time you were slick and your grill was cold
And now funny how the shit gets old
You can run, you can run, but it will catch up
Like now, see me, I'll show you up

Now you wanna get back when you had your shine
But you run the same thing every time when you rhyme
Can't stop, won't stop, no compromise
It's a house of cards built out of lies
Coming down like a bird floating on the mist
Turn on the track, back track, and twist
You work hard to climb the list
20 years of schooling and they put you on the day shift

I know the danger of a man
Who's been to hell and back again (danger)
Can't tell tomorrow from where he's been (that's danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (danger)

You're caught now by the skin you're in
In a bind now, your thoughts go to all your sins
Hits much harder back, better count on that
I tell you what we know always holds us back
Now you mutter and you stutter and you putter don't stop
I got in your heart and I shook you up
In a bind, now you're caught by the fear setting in
Choked on the thought that you done it again

Keep the competition in check
You draft, your plans, at your drafting desk
You try to play to win but now you lost
Like clams with no tartar sauce
Scheming in the attic
Thought you had it
So dramatic
I got the stats, mathematics
Automatic, systematic
She's super bad now
What'cha, what'cha want now?

I know the danger of a man (that's danger)
Who's been to hell and back again (danger)
Can't tell tomorrow from where he's been (that's danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (that's danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (danger, danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (that's danger)

I know the danger of a man (that's danger)
Who's been to hell and back again (danger)
Can't tell tomorrow from where he's been (that's danger)
Don't play no game that I can't win (danger)

Don't play no game that I can't win
Don't play no game that I can't win

Long Burn the Fire

This is it y'all, some nasty shits for ya

Jump out the window onto a parade balloon
My style is iller than the goblins in Troll 2
'Cause I'm the type of MC with the most pizzazz
You're stealing my book like I was Grandmaster Caz
Got rhymes about antihistamines and analgesics
Rhyme about expectorants, y'all don't see it
Soothsayer, not a player, rhyme sayer extreme
Burn like fire when I step on the scene
I've got shark's teeth so I can bite your head
I've got tiger's claws that'll scratch you dead
I've got wings like a dragon when I'm flying above
Shoot venom from my eyes when it's time to get rough
So step back and check yourself
This MC's got weapons that'll ruin your health
So if you're feeling strong, then reach for yours
My book is my shield and my mic is my sword, sword, sword...

Long burn the fire
The truth shall set you free

Now it's Adrock rappin', I'm back again
Like a Big Mac attack on your gut and that's wack, my friend
I'm a maxer relaxer and I'm chillin'
I take that shit serious like Jerome to grillin'
I burn you to a crisp, sucker, back up off the toaster
I make you sick like at Kenny Rogers Roaster
See this rap thing is all about the braggadocio
I check my rear view, MCs ain't gettin' closer
People think I'm slow 'cause I'm just I'm underchallenged
See me, you're like, "Man, that's remarkable talent"
Live 'round the clock like Disco Donut
I'm like a tailor 'cause I got the thing sewn up
Or a proctologist, I move asses
Got so much heat that I fog your mom's glasses
Proof is in the pudding and the pudding's in my pants
You heard me rap and now watch me dance

Long burn the fire
The truth shall set you free

Save the date for when they hoist our number to the rafters
Above the haters, you can hear our laughter
Like Willis Reed or Elton John
We done been in the game and our game's still on
It's not Tic Tac Toe or Operation
Just holding it down like the gravitation
To all the heads that said, "No can do"
Adrock's in the bath filled with chocolate fondue
Straight up nuts like my name is Mike Bazzini
Bonafide household name like Sergio Tacchini
"Wasn't we here back on Raising Hell?"
Running wild like rats in the Taco Bell
On the mic I spit, the match it's lit
Mike Dino, the Jewish Brad Pitt
Making music for librarians to burly jocks
The rapper Mike D, known for my curly locks

Funky Donkey

Put this on a zip disk, send it to your lawyer
File me under "Funky"

Like sipping lemonade and Arnold Palmers
Big holiday parties like Dolly Partner

Sometimes I get Pad Thai as a starter
My other order, Pad See Yew, is much darker

Adam Horovitz, I take a shvitz
I'm known for my glamour and my glitz, check it

As I bust, I really must encrust
This microphone rust with diamond fairy dust

I don't wear crocs and I don't wear sandals
The pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles

Stop singing that song in the wrong key
What you looking at? Funky donkey
Funky donkey
Funky donkey

I-I-I-I-I go wooooo like a fire engine
Flashing lights to get your attention

Stop sweating me about the weather
Go shave a sheep and knit yourself a sweater

Don't get me heated or y'all in trouble
Bass bins booming make the dancehall bubble

Letting loose all up in the honkey tonk
With the shoopa doopa doo bedonk

Well, I was swimming in the water of the ocean
Like Dr. Jekyll with the magic potion

We're brand new, never ever the same
What's that, what's that, what's the name?
Funky donkey
Funky donkey
Funky donkey

The Larry Routine

Oh, this routine dates way back
A lot of people may remember this routine
But it's evolved, now
Yeah, from the summer before last

Well, my name's Mike D but I got a new name
And that new name is Larry

Well, my name is Adrock but I got a new name
And that new name is Harry

Well, my name is MCA but I got a new name
And that new name is Gary

But our DJ's name has stayed the same
'Cause his new name is Barry

Tadlock's Glasses

Now it's suffice to say that I'm nicer
Nice in the cut and, yes, I'm the slicer
Or should I say I'm the filleter
I hate the game, I hate the player
But don't get discombobulated and upset
Because trust me, we ain't even begun yet

Mike D's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
Adrock's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
MCA's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
And you don't stop, the body rock

Watch me make it pop, now I make it sizzle
As I flip your omelet up at the b bizzle
I'm like Molto Mario, they call me Tasty D
Your quick fire challenge, freak the hijiki
You can call me chef 'cause it's bonafide
Knife skills on the block that I'm taking worldwide

Mike D got it locked and we rock it nonstop
Adrock got it locked and we rock it nonstop
MCA got it locked and we rock it nonstop
And then you don't stop, the body rock

I've got bass lines bubbling up on out of my hands
Don't want to never play nothin' that sounds too bland
Shazam! I sprinkle on some magic dust
You've got a bagel in your pants and that's a must
Plus I cuss and I grab my nuts
Got a six finger ring that says "excuse our dust"

Mike D's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
Adrock's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
MCA's got it locked and we rock it nonstop
And you don't stop, the body rock

Sometimes things just don't connect

Lee Majors Come Again

Hold up. Goddamnit, this thing. Alright, wait. Hold on, Adam. This thing keeps fallin' off.

Woo! Doin' it big! Ah-ah!
I'm the lyrical, mathematical genius
Splashing like lime juice, you've never seen this
Internationally known, the longest, the leanest
Shout-out to one Jos� Nenis

I hit 'em with the rhyme and the rhyme don't stop
We got the beat and the beat go drop
The ping pong paddle make the battle go pop
Now take a look around this spot

I'm seeing every detail like an over-cranked camera
Sleestaks in the back say "Damn ya"
You say "I can't" and I say "Why can't ya?"
Chopping the track in the--in the land of...

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

There's a bird in here
That's my DJ, not Doctor Brassiere
Dropping bombs like a bombardier
Like cacao, it's a chocolatier

We're giving y'all a lil slice of heaven
B Boys bringing it back to A7
Deal with the schism, ride on the rhythm
Sweet like pie and the pie's what I give 'em

I'll stage a coup and usurp your position
'Cause--'cause like a Mormon, I'm on a mission
We're audible-visible
Cadence is lyrical
Got the mental and physical
When the moment is critical

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

Ruff!
Uh, Lee Majors come again

Like the Six Dil- Million Dollar Man
Woo! Watch out!
In the back of the bus...gonna bust!
Lee Majors style

I said stop! Watch how I flip
Bill Piedmont with the Kung-Fu grip
Haymaker, roundhouse, show can't continue
At the roller rink down in Virginia

Oh, yeah, did I spill the beans?
I see your grandpa in Apple Bottom jeans
A Von Dutch cap, Ugg boots to match
The word gets out, you can't take it back

I'm just a pause tape competition expert winner
Just a doggone, long-armed, tall yarn spinner
You want a battle? Easy now, star
My DJ's so nasty, he needs a sneeze guard

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

You wanna buy this
You wanna take that
Wanna-wanna try this
Wanna-wanna make that
You can't abide this
You wanna fake that
Take a look around you

Multilateral Nuclear Disarmament

Make it happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Let's go

Wheel up, back up, rewind

Happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Uh-huh

Huh

Don't slow down now
Don't stop listening
It's the reason we can ??
Uh-huh

Happen, we can make it happen
Happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen
Make it happen, we can make it happen

Ditty-ditty-ditty-ditty-dum
Ditty-ditty-ditty-ditty-dum
You don't stop
Don't stop
That's right, you don't stop rockin' the beat

Here's a Little Something for Ya - 2011 (Hot Sauce Committee Part Two) Lyrics

Yes, yes, yes
Ill out the gate, I set it off
I suppose you're exposed, so get lost
And break north, cut all connections
Join the sucker MC witness protection

M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-Mike D
Step off the launch in the place to be
Always on time so I never botch
The tick to the tock of the Mike D watch

Here's a little something for ya
I'm-a drive a little and stall ya
Don't lose your balance and fall ya
And if you're feeling chilly I'm-a get you a shawl

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

Honest Mike, what? Honest Mike D
Don't really care if the press likes me
I just speak my conscience, just speak my mind
I don't trip or flip and then I start to find

Queens up front, Brooklyn's in the back
Flack from flak guns, riot squads smokin' crack
The odds are stacked for those who lack
I been a lucky motherfucker when it comes to that

I slow roast, I'm steady tappin'
Oh, yes, I guess I'm the toast of Manhattan
In Miami, I'm sleazy with John Salley
Shout out to Andre Leon Talley

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

The shit is crazy
The shit is crazzzeee

Dr. Carlton Brassiere, a.k.a. Joyce
Dr. Bombay is the ladies' choice
Step on stage to the smoke from dry ice
Every time we bring it twice as noice

Now ease up brethren, take an Excedrin
Only name check to rhyme is Tippi Hedren
I'm lookin' fine, I'm gettin' much finer
Steady lounging in my La-Z-Boy recliner

Losing it in traffic, amped up on coffee
Like kids going wild after school for Mr. Softee
Like a slice around the corner, uh, it's sneaking up on ya
Breathing down your neck, uh, it's creeping up on ya

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

Here's a Little Something for Ya - 2009 (Original) Lyrics

Yes, yes, yes
Ill out the gate, I set it off
I suppose you're exposed, so get lost
And break north, cut all connections
Join the sucker MC witness protection

Like Cedric The Entertainer or Galaga
A twenty five year vet but I'll still battle ya
The complete package, so well connected
Talent, crowd sex appeal, respected

Here's a little something for ya
I'm-a drive a little and stall ya
Don't lose your balance and fall ya
And if you're feeling chilly I'm-a get you a shawl

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

Honest Mike, what? Honest Mike D
Don't really care if the press likes me
I just speak my conscience, just speak my mind
I don't trip or flip and then I start to find

I got a dead man's ligament inside my knee
Reconstructive Surgery
And now I stand here at the top of the key
Step right up and test your skills on D

I slow roast, I'm steady tappin'
Oh, yes, I guess I'm the toast of Manhattan
In Miami, I'm sleazy with John Salley
Shout out to Andre Leon Talley

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

The shit is crazy
The shit is crazzzeee

Now I'ma name check Dr. Ocheck
Homeboy cut into my leg
Drilled a hole in the bone and put in a screw
Now my ACL is as good as new

Now ease up brethren, take an Excedrin
Only name check to rhyme is Tippi Hedren
I'm lookin' fine, I'm gettin' much finer
Steady lounging in my La-Z-Boy recliner

Losing it in traffic, amped up on coffee
Like kids going wild after school for Mr. Softee
Like a slice around the corner, uh, it's sneaking up on ya
Breathing down your neck, uh, it's creeping up on ya

Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Is not done yet (done yet)
Get ready, get set (get set)
Place your bet (your bet)
What you get (you get)
Here's a little something for ya

Crazy Ass Shit

On and on to the break of dawn
On and on to the break of dawn
On and on to the break of dawn
On and on to the break of dawn

Now let me introduce myself, I'm Adrock
No matter what you order, well, I got it in stock
The doody rhyme thing, well, we got it on lock
Top off the look with the Argyle sock

Take it from me now, I'm gonna give it all I got
I take a licking, still tick-tick-tock
But smoked salmon ain't old school lox
I go to Peter Brady and I buy Greg's sox

It's Mike on the mic and I'm known to please
Stinky nasty like the head cheese
Caps, gowns, honorary degrees
Rhymes fresh pressed like '83 Lees

You can't stop, you got to keep on
You can't stop, you got to keep on

I mean that's all I got, except I've just got...
Even Michael Diamond him never learn
Atop him head, him have a curly perm

Tissue up my nose and my dick's in a cast
I don't wanna talk about it, past is past
All you crusty punks that are into Crass
Go and take a shower and wash that ass

We rock nonstop here in New York City
Sweet on the mic, looking so damn pretty
Served by me, well, it must feel shitty
Weird thing to say here, it goes tough titty

I've got rhymes in a pitcher and it's time to pour
I'm at the tee and I'm screaming "Fore!"
Hit into your party as I declare war
Roberta Peterson's got a spine like a dinosaur

You can't stop, you got to keep on
You can't stop, you got to keep on
You can't stop, you got to keep on

On and on to the break of dawn

Brass monkey, you're the funky
Brass monkey, you're the funky
Brass monkey, you're the funky
Brass monkey, you're the funky monkey

The Lisa Lisa/Full Force Routine

Awww, shit

Whoa, what?

Front (front), back (back)
Sucker grab a snack (snack) pack
I (I) got (got)
Young-Holt wack (wack)
Get (get) down (down)
Grade a ground round (round)
Sound that you're lovin'
Givin' (givin') us a pound (pound)
Full (Full) Force (Force)
Lisa Lisa, Cult Jam
All (all) night (night)
Listening to dope man
You could (you could) say (say)
Yes, we're looking pretty (pretty)
Money (Money) Makin' (Makin')
New York City