Beastie Boys - B-boys Makin With The Freak Freak lyrics

Putting song together ain't no puzzle like yahtzee Sending this out to k-rob and rahmalzee Let me introduce myself on this cut I'm Adrock, I'm lit like a motherf** Well, I'm brewing up rhymes like I was using a still I've got an old school flow like Mike Mcgill Cause Yauch's on the upright, the sh** just ain't funny Got fat ba** lines like Russel Simmons steals money Got clientele, you know I rock well And then you're on my dick because I'm d.f.l Yeah, Mike 'cause playing the ba** is my favorite sh** I might be a hack on the stand up but I'm working at it I get my hair cut correct like Anthony Mason Then I ride the I.R.T. right up to Penn Station Penn Station up on 8th ave. Listen all why'all you get the ball bath He's got the savoir-faire because he's debonair Mike D with the vinyl with the grooves so rare And the rhymes that we're are doo-doo Been makin' with the freak freak, so unique Been learning from the elders now it's time to speak Oh that sh** sounds nice Mike D come on and get it on why'all Talking sh** about a mile a minute Put the wax on the table and let the DJ spin it Excuse me motherf**ers, can I beg your pardon I'm gonna see the Knicks at Madison Square Garden And like the Knicks I got game like I worked at Hasbro On the mic I bug, like I was Prince Jazzbo The rhymes are stupid to make you go coo-coo You can't sleep 'cause you're little Cindy Lou Who Down with the hurrah since the raising hell tour Just listen to his cuts there's no reason to tell more Cindy what I didn't catch the last one That sh** sounded kinda nice, but bust a fast one Well I'm not known for my speed raps So grab the microphone and cut out the claps Ah yea, I like that sh** is kind of rough I'll grab the microphone and f** it up I might seem out there, a little deranged I've got to cool off, catch me on the driving range Well I'm the ladies' choice like I was J.J. Evans Legalize the weed and I'll say thank heavens I'm talking P.G.A. pro tour 2 I'm Doctor Beppers in my TV, in my golfing shoes Pa** me an iron and I'll bust a chip shot Then you throw me off the green because I'm strictly hip-hop I'll grab the tee, I'll tee off I'll grab the golf clubs and I'm off, I'm Audi so check me I've got the Timbos on my toes when I'm not on the green I've got the custom made boots with the spikey things I'm working on my driving 'cause I'm going pro I've got the funky fly golf gear from head to toe Yea, the B-boys makin' with the freak freak Mario's nagging Nonni's about the pesto pizza And then he's on a mission and he's checking for Peach-a