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Beastie Boys
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Shake Your Rump - 2009 Digital Remaster
Now, I rock a house party at the drop of a hat
I beat a biter down with an alunimum bat
A lot of people they be Jonesin' just to hear me rock the mic
They'll be staring at the radio, staying up all night
So like a pimp, I'm pimpin'
I got a boat to eat shrimp in
Nothing wrong with my leg, I'm just B-boy limpin'
Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float
My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat
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 DJ's, 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
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The Patty Duke Show, the Wrench, and then I bust the Tango
Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango
I got the peg leg at the end of my stump-a
Shake your rump-a
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
sound of a bong hit followed by a shotgun noise
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
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
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