How you feeling Adrock?
Well I'm feeling well
Bonafide qualified with a story to tell
How you feeling Mike D?
Well I feel all good
All day it's how we play in the neighborhood
Well how you feeling MCA?
Well I feel right
I speak my words on the track 'cause the track sounds tight
Well if you're feeling good and you're feeling right
Somebody step up and grab the mic
Now hello everybody and how you been
It's Adrock rappin' on the microphone again
I got grace class style finesse and debonair
Murdalize motherfuckers 'cause I just don't care
The MC whisperer kinda like a trainer
I take sucker rappers I put 'em through a strainer
Like macaroni 'cause their shit sounds cheesy
Watch how it's done b'woy it looks easy
I'm the non-stop going off king pin microphone boss
Do my own thing you can't afford the cost
Of my rhyme style take you through a turn-style
'Cause I'm live and direct and I'm wicked and wild
Because I'm back on a roll got total control
I flow like the water out your toiler bowl
Your style is cheap boy just like a dutch
You know you're not smokin' on the microphone much
There's a certain special talent that I never lack
Huh ha huh ha and that's a fact
'Cause we shine like the chrome on a Cadillac
You better break a wishbone 'cause we're never wack
Said we're never that and that is that
We're the non-stop disco power pack uh
That's right we go all night
Who gonna be next to bless the mic
Now this it the way we run it down
We getting you high on the funky sounds
This is the way we get it on
B-Boys in the house till the break of dawn
See I mix my style up like a cement mixer
Smooth and fix ya like a rhyme elixir
I said "Yo sound man, make Mike's mic louder"
Don't make me sound cheap like a box of douche powder
I max and relax champagne mojito
Don't go commando don't know bandito
Je M'appelle Michel Perignon
Me and Claude in the chateau and we got it going on
Quincy's in the hot tub like it's '73
Looking over his shoulder and he's looking at me
I'm all white in the face towel around my waist
What's up with that watch inside that glass case?
I got to make my move sneak out the place
Undetected not leaving a trace
Party's done microphones werecked
Wines been drunk and heads been checked
I see one last profitable and make my play
And pass the microphone to MCA
Non-stop, on the top, and you lock, when we rock
Never fakin', no mistakin', we be makin' hip-hop
So come on everybody get down, yeah
Now it's a spot check hit the deck count down
'Cause I'ma break it down for you how we run it down
Pound for pound keep the bass lines round
I seen you watchin' jockin' clockin' my sound
But for real I'm real glad I grew up in hip hop
Still got mad love for a record called "beat bop"
It meant a lot spinning on my Walkman
Shout out to the African Bam
And to the S to the P the double O-N-Y
The one MC who you can't deny
I'd listen to the records and they'd inspire
Sit down to write and the pen breathes fire
Construct a rhyme with specific intent
Flowin' from and brain cells right through the pen
And then I put the book down grab a hold the mic
Words flowin' so cold turn water to ice
Come through the wire saturate the tape
You put me in the mix nice it up with the plate
And then they press it on wax sell it in the store
The DJ spin the record out on the dance floor
Comin' through the speakers to shake your eardrum
Brain cells get lit then you hear where we're comin' from
Well Adrock (huh) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Mike D (huh) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
MCA (ayah) get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Beastie Boys in the house don't stop

Writer : ADAM NATHANIEL YAUCH, MICHAEL DIAMOND, ADAM HOROVITZ
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group