paroles de chanson The New Style - Beastie Boys
And
on
the
cool
check
in
Center
stage
on
the
mic
And
we′re
puttin'
it
on
wax
It′s
the
new
style
Four
and
three
and
two
and
one,
what
up
And
when
I'm
on
the
mic,
the
suckers
run,
word
Down
with
Ad
Rock
and
Mike
D
and
you
ain't
And
I
got
more
juice
than
Picasso
got
paint
Got
rhymes
that
are
rough
and
rhymes
that
are
slick
I′m
not
surprised
you′re
on
my
dick
B-E-A-S-T-I-E,
what
up
Mike
D
Ah
yeah,
that's
me
I
got
franks
and
pork
and
beans
Always
bust
the
new
routines
I
get
it,
I
got
it,
I
know
it′s
good
The
rhymes
I
write,
you
wish
you
would
I'm
never
in
training,
my
voice
is
not
straining
People
always
biting,
and
I′m
sick
of
complaining
So
I
went
into
the
locker
room
during
classes
Went
into
your
locker,
and
I
smashed
your
glasses
You're
from
Secausus,
I′m
from
Manhattan
You're
jealous
of
me
because
your
girlfriend
is
cattin'
There
it
is,
kick
it
Father
to
many,
married
to
none
And
in
case
you′re
unaware,
I
carry
a
gun,
where?
Stepped
into
the
party,
the
place
was
over
packed
Saw
the
kid
that
dissed
my
homeboy,
shot
him
in
the
back
Man,
I
had
to
get
a
beeper
′cause
my
phone
is
tapped
You
better
keep
your
mouth
shut
'cause
I′m
fully
strapped
I
got
money
in
the
bank,
I
can
still
get
high
That's
why
your
girlfriend
thinks
that
I′m
so
fly
I've
got
money
and
juice,
twin
sisters
in
my
bed
Their
father
had
envy,
so
I
shot
him
in
the
head
And
if
I
played
guitar,
I′d
be
Jimmy
Page
The
girlies
I
like
are
underage,
check
it
Girls
with
boyfriends
are
the
kinds
I
like
I'll
steal
your
honey
like
I
stole
your
bike
My
father,
he's
jealous
′cause
I′m
making
that
green
I've
got
most
the
girlies′
numbers
from
the
places
I
been
There
it
is,
kick
it
You
wanna
know
why,
because
I'm
October
31st
That
is
my
date
of
birth
I
got
to
the
party,
you
know
what?
I
did
the
Smurf
Taxing
all
females
from
coast
to
coast
And
when
I
get
my
fill,
I′m
chilly
most
We
rag-tag
girlies
back
at
the
hotel
And
then
we
all
switch
places
when
I
ring
the
bell
I
chill
at
White
Castle
'cause
it′s
the
best
But
I
fly
at
Fat
Burger
when
I'm
way
out
west
K-I-N-G-A-D,
whammy
All
the
fine
ladies,
they
are
on
my
jammy
Went
to
the
prom,
wore
the
fly
blue
rental
Got
six
girlies
in
my
Lincoln
Continental
I
met
this
girl
at
the
party,
and
she
started
to
flirt
I
told
her
some
rhymes,
and
she
pulled
up
her
skirt
Spent
some
bank,
got
a
high
powered
jumbo
Rolled
up
the
wooly
and
I
watched
Colombo
Let
me
clear
my
throat,
kick
it
over
here
baby
pop
And
let
all
the
fly
skimmies,
feel
the
beat
drop
Coolin'
on
the
corner
on
a
hot
summer
day
Just
me,
my
posse
and
MCA
A
lot
of
beer,
a
lot
of
girls,
and
a
lot
of
cursing
Twenty-two
automatic
on
my
person
Got
my
hand
in
my
pocket
and
my
finger′s
on
the
trigger
My
posse′s
gettin'
big,
and
my
posse′s
gettin'
bigger
Some
voices
got
treble,
some
voices
got
bass
We
got
the
kind
of
voices
that
are
in
your
face
Like
the
bun
to
the
burger,
and
like
the
burger
to
the
bun
Like
the
cherry
to
the
apple
to
the
peach
to
the
plum
I′m
the
king
of
the
Ave.,
and
I'm
the
king
of
the
block
Well,
I′m
MCA,
and
I'm
the
King
Ad
Rock
Well,
I'm
Mike
D,
I
got
all
the
fly
juice
On
the
checkin′
at
the
party
on
the
forty
deuce
Walking
down
the
block
with
the
fresh
fly
threads
Beastie
Boys
fly
the
biggest
heads
Brooklyn
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