Beastie Boys - 3-minute rule - 2009 digital remaster lyrics

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Beastie Boys - 3-minute rule - 2009 digital remaster lyrics

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 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 'cha neck so what the f** 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 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 sh**, man I was making records when you were s**ing your mother's dick Girl, you're walking tall now in your fancy clothes You got fancy things that goin' up your nose You're 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 'Cause I'm running things like some mack motherf**er You'll be slipping your slack in your face 'Cause your a false fake s**er You slipped your slack, you co*k 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 '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 PCP, song out Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout And I'm out

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