Beastie Boys - Shake Your Rump lyrics
[Beastie Boys - Shake Your Rump lyrics]
Now, I rock a house party at
The drop of a hat (yeah)
Now, I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat
A lot of people they be Jonesin' just
To hear me rock the mic
They 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 ya 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
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
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
Running from the law, the press
And the parents
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
The drop of a hat (yeah)
Now, I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat
A lot of people they be Jonesin' just
To hear me rock the mic
They 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 ya 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
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
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
Running from the law, the press
And the parents
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