Beastie Boys - Finger Lickin' Good lyrics

Finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all So Mike D what's up? Yo Yauch what's up? Come on Mike let's tear it up Hear no evil, see no evi,l talking no bullsh** So many damn people are so damn full of it Keyboard Money Mark you know he's not having it Just give him some wood and he'll build you a cabinet I'm convinced that Vince is ripping me off I think it's his girdle that's tipping me off Mike D's out back and he's growing onions I've got bigger buns than my man Paul Bunyon's I've been going nuts gettin' all cooped up Fully hermitizing but now I'm getting souped up It's time to turn the page to a brand new chapter Setting my sights and you know what I'm after I'll be in the paper the news with Ernie Ernesto They'll even print my recipe for pasta with pesto Now here's another special of the day I've got more spice than the frugal gourmet Well Mike D what you got for me Show these good people what it means to be D Well they call me Mike D with the mad man style I put the mic up to my lips and I can scream for a while Created a sound at which many were shocked at I've got a million ideas that I ain't even rocked yet I've got the light bulb flashing at the top of my head Never wake up on the wrong side of the bed You're an idea man, not a yes man With a point to make you're bound to take a stand 'Cause I'm Pete the Puma, Minnie the Moocher Got every type of flavor a style that will suit ya You know the ba** is real fat because it's gotta be like that A snare on the funky tin and a taste of the high hat Finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all Yo Yauch what's up? Mike D what's up? Come on Yauch, let's tear it up I could catch a groove like a flash in the dark Grab a hold of your attention like a thief in the park 'Cause I can flip a rhyme off the tip of my tongue I'll be switching up the rhythm like the rhyme's a piece of chewing gum Now I might chew but I don't bite My ideas are mine when I begin to write In my sleep I'll be thinking 'bout beats and Getting on the mic and busting some treats and Sporting the crazy funky threads that you've never even seen before What I'm lacking from the macking I can find at the thrift store I won't scuff nor scuffle just grin as they walk by Take time to rhyme for a girl I hear talk fly Down some papaya down with the revolution Always wear my goggles 'cause there's so much pollution I can do the freak, the Patty Duke and the Spank Gotta free the funky fish from the funky fish tanks I'll sell my house, sell my car and I'll sell all my stuff "I'm going back to new york city I do believe I've had enough"