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The Mix Up

de Beastie Boys

All you Trekkies and TV addicts
Don't mean to dis don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in the fuckin' house
Grab your backstreet friend and get loud
Blowin' doors off hinges
I'll grab you with the pinchers
And no I didn't retire
I'll snatch you up with the needle nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha
Got the ill boat you've never seen before
Gliding in the glades, and like Lorne Greene you know I get paid
Like caprese with the basil
Not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'm a mother fucking Nick at night
With classics rerunning that you know all right

Now remain calm no alarm cause my farm ain't fat, so what's up with that?
I've got friends and family that I respect when I think I'm too good they put me in check
So believe when I say I'm no better than you
Except when I rap so I guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop
Guaranteed to make your body rock

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

I said: Doc, what's the condition?
I'm a man that's on a mission. "
He said: Son, you'd better listen!
Stuck in your ass is an eletrician
Like a scientist, mmmm when I'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind like Einstein and the Rappin' Duke combined

Hey baby bubba now what the deal?
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi, some hot potato
I stole your mic and you won't see it later
Cause I work magic like a magician
I add up like a mathematician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer, I wear cotton but I don't wear sheer

Shazam! And Abracadabra!
In the whip I'm gonna cruise past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself
Put that shit back on the shelf
Light rays blazin' you're out of phase and my crews amazin'
We're working on the record yo so stay patient

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

I go by the name of The King Adrock
I don't wear a cup nor a jock nor a thong
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre, like Miss Piggy, who moi?
I am the one with the Clientele
You say: Adrock, God you rock so well
I 've got class like Pink Champale
MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale

Don't test me
They can't arrest me
I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset yo calm down
You look Cable Guy dunked off of your crown
I flow like smoke out a chimney
You never been me
You wanna rap but what you're making ain't hip hop B

Get your clothes right out the dryer
Put armor All up on your tire
Sport that fresh attire
Tonight we goin' out set the town on fire
Set the town ablaze
Gonna stun and amaze
Ready to throw a craze
Make your granny shake her head and say: Those were the days

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

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