Interpret:

Beastie Boys

Album:

Check Your Head

Well, I got more bounce to the fuckin' bump 
And then you want to know 
Why it's cause I'm motherfuckin' truckin' 
I'm in the pocket just like Grady Tate 
I got supplies of beats so you don't have to wait 
'Cause I'm the master blaster 
Drinking up the shasta 
My voice sounds sweet 'cause it has to 
So light a match to my ass 'cause I'm blown up 
I'd like to thank the people for just showin' up 
But now I want y'all to move it 
Put your point on the floor and just prove it 
And I'm smurfin not rehearsin' gettin' live y'all 
A little puffy so you know what I'm doin' right 
'Cause that's the kind of frame of mind I'm in 
I got a feelin' that's back again 
So don't touch me 'cause I'm electric 
And if you touch me you'll get shocked! 


You've got the boomin' system 
But it's blasting out doo-doo 
You think it's chocolate milk 
But it's watered down yoo-hoo 
I've been through many times 
In which I thought I might lose it 
The only thing that saved me 
Has always been music 
We've got our own studio the son of the G 
It's no question life's been good to me 
'Cause life ain't nothing but a good groove 
A good mix tape to put you in the right mood 
This one goes out to my man the Groove Merchant 
Coming through with beats 
For which I've been searching 
Like two sealed copies of expansions 
I'm like Tom Vu with yachts and mansions 
The logo I sport is the face of the monkey 
Union made Ben Davis quality it's no junk see 
My chrome is shining just like an icicle 
I ride around town on my low-rider bicycle. 


So many wack M.C.'s 
You get the T.V. bozack 
Ain't even gonna call out your names 
'Cause you're so wack 
But one big oaf whose faker than plastic 
A dictionary definition of the word spastic 
You should have never started something 
That you couldn't finish 
'Cause writin' rhymes to me 
Is like Popeye to spinach 
I'm bad ass move your fat ass 
'Cause you're wack son 
Dancin' around like you think you're Janet Jackson 
Thought you could walk on me 
To get some ground to walk on 
I'll put the rug out under your ass 
As I talk on 
I'll take you out like a sniper on a roof 
Like an M.C. at the fever in the D.J. booth 
With your headphones strapped 
You're rockin' rewind pause 
Tryin' to figure out what you can do to go for yours 
But liek the pencil to the paper I got more to come 
One after another you can all get some 
So you getter take your time 
And meditate on your rhyme 
'Cause your shit'll be stinking 
When I go for mine 
And that's right y'all don't get uptight y'all 
You can't say shit 
Because you're biting what I write y'all 
And that's wrong y'all over the long haul 
You can't cut the mustard 
When you're fronting it all