B-Boy Bouillabaisse Songtext

Beastie Boys

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B-Boy Bouillabaisse Songtext
Get on the mic Mike let's be real and don't cloud the issue The rhymes are rope an M.C. you must listen to People say that they been missin' me and missin' you Get on the mic and let's show them like we used to You say fuck that I say fuck this The king Ad-Whammy has never been limp Dick Butkus One half science and the other half soul His name's Mike D. not Fat Morton Jelly Roll M.C. Busy Le Disco fooled around in Fresno Got over on your girl cause you know she never says no Well Mike D. is a special individual Pulling out knots 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 It's 4:00 a.m. I've got the Dr. Hfuhruhurr Ale I've got nothing to lose so I'm pissin' on the third rail Groggy eyed and fried I'm headed for the station D-Train ride Coney Island vacation Dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1 train They'll be kicking out windows high on cocaine Jump the turnstyle I lost my last token Riding between the cars pissing smoking Also finger popping Two bums fucking I seen them rocking Head for the last car fluorescent light blackout Policeman told my homeboy put that crack out You know you light up when the lights go down Read the New York Post Fulton St. downtown Same faces every day but you don't know their names Party people going placed on the D-Train French trench coat wing tip going to work Pulling a train like Captain Kirk Pick pocket gangsters paying their debts Caught a bullet in the lung from Bernie Goetz Overworked and underpaid staring at the floor Prostitutes spandex caught in the ding dong doors Stuck between the stations it seems like an eternity Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity $50.00 fine for disturbing the peace The neck tortoise the Lees creased Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are Dunkin Friday night and Jamaica Queens funkin Elevated platform 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 readin El Diario Riding the train down from El Barrio Went from the station straight to Orange Julius Bought a hot dog from my man George Drakoulias He goes by the name of Disco Dave New York New York it's a hell of a town The Bronx is up and I'm Brooklyn down 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 I cut my boss cause I don't care You tried to get slick you bust a little chuckle You're gonna get smacked with my gold finger knuckle Cause being as fly as me is something you never thought of You'll be sticking up old ladies with the hand gun or the sawed-off Like a buffalo soldier I'm broader than Broadway Keep keepin' on I don't care what they say I play my stereo loud it disturbs my neighbors I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor I am the holder of the 3-pack Bonanza If you open the book then you will get your hand slapped I am the keeper of the 3-pack Bonanza If you ask a question 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 Yes you got a boyfriend and indeed his name is Slick Nick that is why Annabelle you're caught with the shrimpy limp dick trick I ride around town cause my ride is fly I shot a man in Brooklyn just to watch him die He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost She's slippin through his fingers as she's movin' out to the coast If your world was all black and if your world was all white Then you wouldn't get much color out of life now right Nicknamed Shamrock my name is not Shamus Girlies on the tippy cause my homie is famous My name is not O'Houigheighi Norisit Brian If I said that I was weak you know I'd be lyin' Suckers try to bite they try to pursue it If you explain to a musician he'll tell that he knows it but he just can't do it Chinese eyes and Chinese suits Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much boots More updated on the hip-hop lingo My favorite New York Knick was Hawthorne Wingo Met a girl at a party and I gave her my card You know that it said Napoleon Bonaparte Peepin' out the colors I be buggin' on Cezanne They call me Mike D Joe Blow the Lover Man Your face turns red as your glass of wine You spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time 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 bluffin' Serve you on a platter like Thanksgiving stuffin' 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 Raymond Burr I'm so high that they call me Your Highness If you don't know me then pardon my shyness I live in the Village wherever I go I walk to Keepin' 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