Lyrics Beastie Boys

Beastie Boys

3-Minute Rule

(Mike D)

I stay up all night, I go to sleep watching 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 Miss Crabtree like my main man Spanky

Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya

Ya lookin' so hot 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 is a turning and rolling like a ring-ding

Jump the turnstiles never pay the toll

I did the doo-wah diddy and bust 'em with the pre roll

Customs jailed me over an herb seed

Don't rat out your boy over some rat weed

I'm out of your back door, I'm into another

You boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother

Not perfect grammer, always perfect timing

The Mike stands for money and the D is for diamonds

(MCA)

Roses are red, the sky is blue

I got my barrel at 'cha 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

'Cuz you know Y-A-U-C-H

I'm taking all MC's out in the place

Taking life as it comes, no fool am I

Going off, getting paid, and I don't ask why

Playin' beats on my box, making music for the many

Know a lot of def girls that are doing their thing

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

mothers dick

(Ad-Rock)

Girl

You're walking tall now in your fancy clothes

You got fancy things that goin' up your nose

Ya' getting fancy gifts from expensive men

You're a dog on a leash like a pig in a pen

Mothership connection, getting girls affection

If your life needs correction, don't follow my direction

You got your 8x10, your agent, your Harley

You'll be driving around Hollywood, yo, sorry Charlie

'Cuz I'm running things like some mack motherfucker

You'll be slipping your slack in your face

'cuz your a false fake sucker

You slipped your slack, you cock me and you're wack

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 to emotional

Are you experienced little girl?

I want to know what goes on in your little girl world

'Cuz 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 PCP, song out

Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout

And I'm out