Beastie Boys — Hold It Now Hit It

Hold it now, hit it Yo, Leroy! Ahh, yeah, yeah, yeah Why don't you hook up that def jam right about now? Now I chill real ill when I start to chill When I fill my pockets with a knot of dollar bills Sipping pints of ale out the window sill When I get my fill, I'm chilly-chill Now, I just got home because I'm out on bail What's the time? It's time to buy ale Peter eater, parking meter, all of the time If I run out of ale, it's Thunderbird wine Miller-drinking, chicken-eating, dress so fly I got friends in high places that are keeping me high Get down with Mike D, and it ain't no hassle I got the ladies of the eighties from here to White Castle... Hold it now, hit it Yo, Leroy! It's my drum, it's my, hold it now, it's my rhyme And now it's me, Adam Yauch, in the place to be All the girls are on me 'cause I'm down with Mike D I'm down with Mike D, and it ain't no baloney For real, not phony, O.E. and Rice-a-Roni I come out at night 'cause I sleep all day Well, I'm the King Ad-Rock, and he's MCA Well, I'm cruisin', I'm bruisin', I'm never ever losing I'm in my car, I'm going far, and dust is what I'm using Around the way is where I'm from And I'm from Manhattan, and I'm not a bum Because you're pud-slapping, ball-flapping, got that juice My name's Mike D, and I can do that Jerry Lewis Hold it now, hit it Yo, Leroy! Yo, that was real def, man, try that again, man I like that def stuff, boy Hip-hoppin', body rockin', doin' the do Beer drinking, breath stinking, sniffing glue Belly fillin', always illin', bustin' caps My name's Mike D, and I write my own snaps I'm a-peep-show seeking on the Forty-Deuce I'm a killer at large, and I'm on the loose Pistol packing, Monkey drinking, no money bum I come from Brooklyn 'cause that's where I'm from Cheap-skatin', perpetrating, money-hungry jerk Every day I drink O.E., and I don't go to work You drippy-nose knucklehead, you're wet behind the ears You like men, and we like beer Hold it now, hit it Yo, Leroy! Bust that choco-lotto What, huh, yo, man, pass that over here, man, all right King of the Ave with the Def female You're rhymin' and stealin' with the freshest ale Kid cooling at the crib watching my TV Ed Norton - Ted Knight - and Mr. E-D Pump it up, homeboy, just don't stop Chef Boyardee, cooling on the pot I take no slack, 'cause I got the knack I'm never dusting out 'cause I tossed that crack The King Ad-Rock — that is my name Y'all drinking Moet, and we got the champagne A quarter droppin', going shoppin', buyin' wigs Surgeon general, cut professor, DJ Thigs Hold it now, hit it Hit it Hold it now, hit it Yo, Leroy!