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To All the Girls

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 mobiles
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

Shake Your Rump

Now I rock a house party at the drop of a hat
And 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, stayin' up all night
So like a pimp, I'm pimpin'
I got a boat, to eat shrimp in
Nothing wrong with my leg, I'm just B-boy limpin'
Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumpin' on a float
My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat
Ooh-ooh 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 and 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 beach, 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 DJs, he'll put 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 freakin' or peakin', but I rock well
The Patty Duke, 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

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
Who-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

One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four

Oh, wine cooler


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
Livin' on borrowed time and borrowed money
Sleepin' on the street, there ain't a damn thing funny
With the hand-me-down food, and the 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
Better off drinkin' than smokin' the rocks

Well...
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall
Kickin' uptown, kickin' downtown, kickin' crosstown
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
Well, you 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 (in Tennessee)
He lives in the street but he's no bum
He's a rockabilly star from the days of old
He used to have teeth all filled with gold
He got a platinum voice, but only gold records
On the bass was boots and on the drums was checkers
Luis Vuitton with the Gucci guitar
Johnny Ryall
Who do you think you are?

Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall
Takin' the night train, takin' the O.E.
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall

One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
One, two, three...


Donald Trump and Donald Tramp living in the men's shelter
Wonderbread bag shoes and singing Helter Skelter
He asks for a dollar, you know what it's for
Man, bottle after bottle, he always needs more
He's no less important than you working class stiffs
He drinks a lot of liquor, but he don't drink piss
He 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, kick it

Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall

Check the cooled wax!

Egg Man

Ahh, yeah
I looked out the window and seen his bald head
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
I pulled out the jammy, he thought it was a joke
The trigger I pulled, his face, the yolk
Reached in his pocket, took all his cash
Left my man standing with an egg mustache
Suckers they come a dime a dozen
When I say dozen, you know what I'm talking about, boy

Yeah, that's right, I'm the Egg Man driving around
King of the town (yeah)
Always got my windows rolled down
Ready to throw
You know, I'm the Egg Man

Once upon a time
Egg Man...

Humpty Dumpty was a big fat egg
He was playing the wall 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, and 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 (Ray)
Comes from a chicken, not a bunny, dummy
People laugh, it's no joke
My name's Yauch and I'm throwing the yolk
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 going through science like Dolemite
The mack who
I'm the Egg Man, taxi driver
I'm the Egg Man
Egg Man, 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 and judge a man by his race
You go through life with egg on your face
Woke up in the morning, peculiar feeling
Looked up and saw egg dripping from the ceiling
Families, punk 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

Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man
Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man
Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man, Egg Man...

Egg Man...

High Plains Drifter

'Cause I'm a high plains drifter, and I'm the drifter
The high plains drifter, and I'm the drifter
They can't catch me, 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 and pulled the bullet out of my chest
Fear and loathing across the country listening to my 8-track
I reached behind the seat to snatch a cool one from the pack
A long distance from my girl, and I'm talking on the 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 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're gonna get mushed

I'm doin' 120, plowing over mailboxes
Radar detector to tell me where the cops is
Spend another night at the Motel 6
It's five dollars extra get the porno flicks, and then I
Concoct a black and tan in my brandy snifter
I'm a kleptomaniac, K-Mart shoplifter
Cash flow getting low, so I had to pull a job
I found a nice place to visit, but a better place to rob
I left my car outside, and the engine still revvin'
Time to get busy (T.C.B.) at 7-Eleven
And then I went inside to make my withdrawal
I saw all that he had, but I had to take it all

Knucklehead deli tried to gyp me on the price
So I clocked him off the turban with the bag of ice
'Cause I'm mellow like Jell-O, cool like lemonade
I made my getaway and then I thought that I had it made
I feel like Steve McQueen, a former movie star
Look in my rearview mirror, seen a police car
Ballantine quarts with the puzzle on the cap
I couldn't help but 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've 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

Makin' like a D.T., driving a Grand Fury
Wherever I hang my hat's my home, and my past is kind of blurry
Every dog will have its day, and mine will be in front of a jury
I'm the high plains drifter, you know I'm never in a hurry

Read me my rights as if I didn't know this
Threw me in the tank with the drunk called Otis
With his five o' clock shadow, he smelled of 3-day old beer
My man turned to me and said, Why are you here?
I said I'm charmin', I'm dashing, I'm rental car bashin'
I'm phony paper passing at Nix Check Cashing
I went before the judge, he sent me to the Brooklyn House of D
He said, You behave or we'll throw away the key
Houdini'd out the cuffs, I kicked the screw in the knee
I took the bailiff's wallet and went straight to O.T.B.
I had a good feeling, easy come, easy go
I bet on one horse to win and another just for show
And, sure enough, that nag came in
Brought my ticket to the window and collected my win
And then I broke into my new car with a wire coathanger
Hot wired, hot wheeled, and Suzy is a headbanger

The Sounds of Science

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 emcee amateurs
And Naugels, Isaac Newton, and Scientific E.Z.
Ben Franklin with the kite, 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 d-dropping the n-new science
And I've been k-kicking the new k-knowledge
An emcee 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 y'all 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
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 y'all 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

3-Minute Rule

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 BMW
I got lucky, I brought home the kitten
Before I got busy, I slipped 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 toll
Doo wa diddy and busted 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 your 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 fuck 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 emcees 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 a lot of def girls that'll do anything
A lot of parents like to think I'm a villain
I'm just chillin' like Bob Dylan
Yeah, 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 your mother's dick

Girl, you're walking tall now in your fancy clothes
You got fancy things, they're 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 motherfucker
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, y'all, a PCP song out
Full throttle to the bottle and full, full clout
And I'm out

Wah...

Hey Ladies

Hey
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
Date women on TV 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 the bib
I'm wheelin' and dealin', I make a little bit of stealing
I'll bring you 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 upon the ceiling
Such and such will be the bass that I'm throwing
I'm talking to a girl telling her I'm all-knowing
Well, she's talking to the kid (who? to the kid)
I'm telling here 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 and 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 15 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
Then I met a little cutie, she was all hopped up on zootie
I liked the little cutie, but I kicked her in the booty
'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 to the ride
I've got an open mind so why don't you all get inside?
Tune in, tune 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

You know that
She's 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 drinkin'
The phone booth on the corner is damp and it's stinkin'
Said come on over, it was me that she missed
I threw that trashcan through her window 'cause you know I got dissed
Your old lady left you and you went (girls, girls, girls) insane
You blew yourself up in the back of the 6 train
Well, take my advice at any price, a gorilla like your mother is mighty weak, man
Sucking down pints 'til I didn't know
Woke up in the morning at the 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
What's that?
Good god
Good god, dance
Good god
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Ain't it funky, brother?
He, ha, ha, ha
Hey, hey, hey, hey, ladies
Hey, hey, ladies

5-Piece Chicken Dinner

Jeb, get away from the bar-b-que, man
Don, get the hell away from that thing
Dunce, give me a kiss
Won't you come and give me a kiss?

Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun

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 and 22 is my gauge
I'm writing rhymes on a page, I'm goin' off in a rage
'Cause I'm out on a mission, a stolen car mission
Had a small problem with the transmission
Three 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 the coins on the street (Holmes), and you know 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 be running through my head
Cold medina, y'all, makin' me see red
Rapid fire Louie, like Rambo got bullets
I'm a die harder, like my kid Bruce Willis
I love girlies, waxin' and milkin'
Coordinating chimp is my man Dave Scilken (Smokie)
Predetermined destiny is who I am
You got your finger on the trigger, like the Son of Sam I am
Like Clockwork Orange, goin' off on the town
I've got homeboys bonanza to beat your ass down
Well, I'm mad at my desk, and I'd be writing all curse words
Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words
You're a headless chicken chasin', a sucker freebasing
You're looking for a fist to put your face in
Well, get hip, get hip, don't slip, you knuckleheads
Racism is schism on a serious tip

Car Thief

Some static started in the pool hall
Hit a motherfucker's face with the cue ball
Then I met this girl, she tried to gank me
So I smacked her in the booty with a plank, B
'Cause me and my crew were 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
See 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 motherfucking ass
You try to take what isn't yours, like a goddamn rat
See I, personally, I wouldn't even wanna go out like that

I'm a writer, a poet, a genius, I know it
I don't buy cheeba, I grow it (I'm a farmer)
People always trying to get next to me
I had a beautiful experience on ecstasy
I 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
Yo, you're just gonna get your ass kicked
Homeboy, throw in the towel
Your girl got dicked by Ricky Powell
The Godfather of Soul in the belly of the beast
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 with the walking the beat
So like a sneaky pouch time bomb ticking
Like the beat to my rhyme just kicking
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 goodbye to my girl, my lawyers, and accountants
My mind is kinda' rhyming, and I think I ought to think
So I'm rocking 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, emceeing, I rock
You ain't nothing but a car thief who must be stopped

What Comes Around

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, please 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 fucked around and wound up with the bald skin head
You're all mixed up, like pasta primavera
Yo, why'd you throw that chair at Geraldo Rivera, man?
'Cause one man's ceiling is another man's floor
Yo, get that money out of your ass, you whore
Well, I brought her upstairs onto the roof
I dogged your wife, and she is a doofus

So what goes around comes around
And what goes around comes around
What goes around comes around
And what comes around goes around (goes around)
Chosen bound
Fully down
Feeling down
Yo, Holmes, your nose is brown

Clean B, cleaning the G spot, you know that we've got
The 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
Well, you reap what you sow when you plant the seed
Bum cheese on rye with ham and prosciutto
Got more Louie than Phillip Rizzuto

What goes around comes around
And what goes around comes around
What goes around comes around
And what comes around goes around
What goes around comes around
And what goes around inevitability
Comes around, what?
And what goes around comes around
What goes around, you know, it comes around
What?
Check it, check it
Check it, what, what, what, what
Funky damn, a funky Pam, Pam, Pam, Pam
Bam, bam, bam
FD in the house, y'all
Funky, funky, funky, funky, f-funky
Bam, bam, bam, bam
FD
Funky, funky, FD, funky, funky
Fuck it
Ah, everybody, funky Pam
Bam, bam, bam, slam, Alabama
And kick it, Al-a-fucking-bama
I slam a saki hammer
And chilling
Funky
Like penicillin
Funky
Like panasaursas
Funky
Doris the Fink-a-saursas
Ha, he, ha, ha, ha

Shadrach

Riddle me this, my 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
Not how you play the game, but 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, well, I hope that he cares
If I had a penny for my thoughts, I'd be a millionaire
We're just three emcees, and we're on the go
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego

Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego


Only 24 hours in a day
Only 12 notes, well, a man can play
Music for all, for not just one people
And now we're gonna bust with the Putney Swope sequel
More Adidas sneakers than a plumber 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 picking pockets at the Atlantic Antic
And nobody wants to hear you 'cause your rhymes are so frantic
I mix business and 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), yo, that's weak
Get even like Steven, like pulling a Rambo
Well, Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, you know

Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
(no)
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego

Stealing from the rich, and I'm out robbing banks
Giving to the poor, and I always give thanks
Because I've got more stories that JD'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 coup, 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

Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego


Well, my noggin' is hoggin' all kinds of thoughts
And Adam Yoggin is Yauch and he's rockin', of course
Well, 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 love 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 (say what?) the popcorn
Sipping on wine and macking
Rocking on the stage with all the hands clapping
Ride the wave of fate, it don't ride me, Holmes
Being very proud to be an emcee
And then 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
Because the bass is bumping from the back of my Fleetwood
They tell us what to do, hell, no
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego

Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
(no)
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego

Ask for Janice

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

59 Chrystie Street

Aww, aww
There's a girl over there
Aww, aww, yeah, aww, aww, aww, yeah
With long brown hair
Aww, yeah, aww, yeah
I took her to the place
I threw the mattress in her face
Took off her shirt (fresh, fresh)
Took off her bra
Took off her pants (fresh)
You know what I saw
A wick, wick, wack
Ah-ha!

Get on the Mic

One, two...
Right about now I'd like to dedicate this song
Out to my main homie, Mike D
Alright, let's kick it
Ready, go

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 rope, an emcee you must listen to
People say that they been missing me and missing you
Get on the mic and let's show them like we used to
Well, you say fuck that, yo, Holmes, fuck this
I'm the King AdWhammy, you're Dick Butkus
One half science and another half soul
Nickname 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

So 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 stromy, don't be so selfish
Get on the mic 'cause you know you eat shellfish

At the fever

Stop That Train

It's 4:00 am, I've got the Hfuhruhurr Ale
I've got nothing to lose, so I'm pissing on the third rail
Groggy-eyed and fried, and I'm headed for the station
D train ride, Coney Island (this one is) 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 turnstyle, I lost my last token
Riding 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 Street, downtown
Same faces every day, but you don't know their names
Party people going places on the D train

Stop that train, I want to get off

Check it
Trench coat, wing tip, going to work
And you be pulling a train like Captain Kirk
Pick pocket, gangsters, paying their debts
I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernhard Goetz
Overworked and underpaid, staring at the floor
Prostitutes spandex caught in the slide doors
Now you're stuck between the stations, and it seems like an eternity
Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity
A fifty dollar fine for disturbing the peace
The neck, tortoise, the Lees, I creased
Hot cup of coffee, and the donuts are Dunkin'
Friday night and Jamaica Queens funkin'
Elevated platform, I'm 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 reading El Diario
Riding the train down from the El Barrio
Went from the station to Orange Julius
I bought a hot dog from who? George Drakoulias

A Year and a Day

MC for what I am and do
The A is for Adam, and the lyrics true

So as I 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 emcee
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 the bard, and I am the last one
I 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 mindfuck when it's rolling along
Can't stop the smooth runnings 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
I 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 Guiness 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'm going to the limits of my ultimate destiny
Feeling as though somebody, somewhere, is 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

Easy rhyme for the Disco Dave

He goes by the name of the D-D-D-Disco Dave
Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave
Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave
Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave
Disco Dave

Hello Brooklyn

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 because I don't care
You tried to get slick, you bust a little chuckle
You're gonna get smacked with my goldfinger knuckle
'Cause being as fly as me is something you never thought of
You'll be sticking up old ladies with the handgun 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, I disturb my neighbor
I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor

'Cause I am the holder of the three-pack bonanza
If you open the book, then you will get your hand slapped
I am the keeper of the three-pack bonanza
If you ask a question, then 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 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

Dropping Names

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 slipping through his fingers as she's moving 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?
A nickname Shamrock, well, my name is not Seamus
Girlies on the tippy because my homie is famous
My name is not O'Houlihee, nor is it Brian
If I said that I was weak, man, you know I'd be lying
Well, suckers try to bite, yeah, then try to pursue it
Yeah, explain to a musician, them knew it but them can't do

Lay It on Me

Uh, funky baby
Lay it on me now
Not so hard, man


Yo, I've got Chinese eyes and Chinese suits
Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much boots (Lay it on me now)
More updated on the hip-hop lingo (Not so hard, man)
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 (Lay it on me now)
Peepin' out the colors, I be buggin' on Cezanne
They call me Mike D, Joe Blow, the lover man
Well, your face turns red as your glass of wine
That you spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time (Lay it on me now)
Girl, 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 bluffing
Serve you on a platter like Thanksgiving stuffing
And what it
Stuffing, stuffing
Stuffing, buddy

Mike on the Mic

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

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 I'm 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

AWOL

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
Cey City in the house, what you gonna do?
Home-one, what you gonna do?
Got Busy in the house, what you gonna do?
Dust Brothers in the house, what you gonna do?
Mike 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?
Jazzy J in the house
Bad Brains in the house
Richard Consen's in the house
Yo, good night, Amsterdam

Now I want you all to break this down

To all the girls, all the girls...

You liked it, some of it's...