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Beastie Boys
Beastie Boys


Background information
Origin Brooklyn, New York, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Rap Rock
Alternative Hip-Hop
Hardcore Punk
Years active 1981—present
Label(s) Def Jam Recordings
Capitol Records
Rat Cage Records
Grand Royal
Associated acts Nas
Q-Tip
Rage Against the Machine
Cypress Hill
Slayer
Busta Rhymes
The Young and the Useless
Biz Markie
Website Website
Members
Mix Master Mike
Mike D
MCA
Ad-Rock
Former members
John Berry
Kate Schellenbach
DJ Double R
Doctor Dré
DJ Hurricane



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  B  →  Beastie Boys  →  Albums  →  Licensed To Ill

Beastie Boys Album


Licensed To Ill (1986)
1986
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. . .


Because mutiny on the bounty's what we're all about
I'm gonna board your ship and turn it on out
No soft sucker with a parrot on his shoulder
'Cause I'm bad gettin' bolder - cold getting colder
Terrorizing suckers on the seven seas
And if you've got beef - you'll get capped in the knees
We got sixteen men on a dead man's chest
And I shot those suckers and I'll shoot the rest

[chorus]
Most illingest b-boy - I got that feeling
Cause I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

Snatching gold chains - vicking pieces of eight
I got your money and your honey and the fly name plate
We got wenches on the benches - and bitties with titties
Housing all girlies from city to city
One for all and all for one
Taking out M.C.'s with a big shotgun
All for one and one for all
Because the Beastie Boys have gone A.W.O.L.
Friggin' in the riggin' and cuttin' your throat
Big biting suckers getting thrown in the moat
We got maidens and wenches - man they're on the ace
Captain Bly is gonna die when we break his face

[repeat chorus]

Ali Baba and the forty thieves

Torching and crakin' and rhymin' and stealin'
Robbin' and raping - busting two in the ceiling
I'm wheeling' - I'm dealin' - I'm drinking, not thinking
Never cower, never shower - and I'm always stinking
Ho ho ho and a pint of Brass Monkey
And when my girlie shakes her hips - she sure gets funky
Skirt chasing, free basing - killing every village
We drink and rob and rhyme and pillage

[repeat chorus]

I've been drinking my rum - a Def son of a gun
I fought the law and I cold won
Black Beard's weak - Moby Dick's on the tick
'Cause I pull out the jammy and squeeze off six
My pistol is loaded - I shot Betty Crocker
Deliver Colonel Sanders down to Davey Jones' locker
Rhymin' and stealin' in a drunken state
And I'll be rockin' my rhymes all the way to Hell's gate

[repeat chorus]

. . .



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 Adrock 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 word
Stepped into the party the place was over packed
Saw the kid that dissed my homey and 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
If I played guitar I'd be Jimmy Page
The girlies I like are underage check it
Girls with boyfriends are the kind I like
I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike
My father he's jealous 'cause I'm making that green what up
I've got the girlie's 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 ragtag 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'm fly at Fat Burger when (when he's) I'm way out west check it
K-I-N-G-A-D whammy
All the fly ladies they are on my jammy
Went to the prom wore the fly blue rental
Got six girlies in my Lincoln Continental
I Met a girl at the party and she started to flirt
I told her some rhymes and she pulled up her skirt check it
Spent some bank - I got a high powered jumbo
Rolled up a wooly (what did he do) and I watched Colombo

Let me clear my throat
Kick it over here baby pop
And let all the fly skimmies.. feel the beat..
Mmm..drop

Coolin' on the corner on a hot summer's day
Just me and my posse and MCA
A lot of beer a lot of girls and a lot of cursin'
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 Adrock
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

Ho ho hoe ho hoe..
Hoe ho ho hoe ho hoe..

. . .


Well this girl came up to me - she says she's new in town
But the crew been said they seen her around
I thought they were right but I didn't wanna know
The girlie was Def and she wanted to go
I think her name is Lucy but they all call Loose
I think I thought I seen her on eighth and forty-deuce
The next think she said, "My place or yours?
Let's kick some bass behind closed doors!"
We got into the cab - the cab driver said
He recognized my girlie from the back of her head
He said a little something about tip to base
So I made him stop the cab to get out of the place
I shouldn't have looked back man I'll always regret it
Something's going on and I'll probably never get it
She was crying like a baby - stupid dumb
It's just too bad that girl's a bum

She's crafty - she's gets around
She's crafty - she's always down
She's crafty - she's got a gripe
She's crafty - and she's just my type
She's crafty

I spent my last dollar to by a Sabrett
When I seen this girl I could never forget
Now I like nothing better than a pretty girl smile
And I haven't seen a smile that pretty in a while
The girl came up to me she said she loved the show
Asked her to come home and she couldn't say, "No!"
We got the crib - there's Adam and D.
We didn't say a word - they just stared at me
I said, "I don't know her just met her tonight."
And Adrock started hiding everything in sight
D. pulled me over said, "Hide your gold,
The girl is crafty like ice is cold!"
The girl is crafty - she knows all the moves
I started playing records - she knew all the grooves
He thought she was a thief - and D. was right
But I just figured she'd spend the night
When I woke up late in the afternoon
She had taken all the things from inside his room
I found myself naked in the middle of the floor
She had taken the bed and the chest of drawers
The mirror, the TV, the guitar cord
My remote control and my old skateboard
She robbed us blind - she took all we owned
And the boys blamed me for bringing her home

[repeat chorus]

. . .


Yes, yes, y'all - you don't stop
You keep it on - and shockin' the place
Well I'm M.C.A. - I got nothing to prove
Pay attention - my intention is to bust a move
I drink quarts and cans and bottles and sixes
Between the turntables keep the vodka and the mixes
I'm Mike D. - I got the deuces wild
A list of girlies numbers that I've dialed
I do the Smurf, the Popeye, and the Jerry Lewis
I like Bullwinkle but I don't like Moose
I'm schoolin' in the boys' room - coolin' by the locker
All the girls in class know that I'm the cool rocker
Punk in the hall - man I should of oughtta hit him
Had the fresh rhymes and the kid cold bite 'em
Smokin' in the boys room is what I do best
While you were at a party - your girlfriend fessed
I keep a pistol in my pocket so you better be cautious
Fly around the world - but it makes me nauseous
Mike D.'s day off everyday of the week
I got to the party - and I did the freak
I got a girl in the Castle and one in the pagoda
You know I got rhymes like Abe Vigoda
I'm a Def Manhattan killer - a rhyme driller
A mike in my hand and a mouth full of Miller
I got a hat not a visor - I drink Budweiser
The turntables - up on the drum riser
The needle's in the groove and the vinyl's on the platter
I know that I'm fly man there's no need to flatter
I travel around the globe - it's keeping girlies dizzy
My name's Mike D. - now watch me get busy y'all

You're a fake wearin' sucker whose gold got rusted
Cheaper than a hot dog with no mustard
You tried to steal my fresh and you got cold busted
Because your crew's all soft and I'm disgusted
I'm from downtown from the city of Manhattan
I got a lotta girlies and not one's cattin'
My posse's in effect and we're doin' the do
And we got more rhymes than your damn crew
Caught you poppin' that weak and you must of been dusted
Stuck you head in the toilet and stone cold flushed it
Word.

. . .


They got a committee to get me off the block
'Cause I say my rhymes loud and I say 'em nonstop
Because being bad news is what we're all about
We went to White Castle and we got thrown out
I got my boy Mike D. - I got the King Adrock I got the jammy with the ammo inside my sock
I shot homeboy but the bullet was a dud
So I reached in the Miller cooler - grabbed a cool Bud

Slow riding, gun hidin' on the go
I'm fly like an eagle and I drink Old Crow
I'm the king of the classroom - coolin' in the back
My teacher had beef so I gave her a smack
She chased me out of class she was strapped with a ruler
Went to the bathroom - rolled myself a wooler
With bottle in hand at the microphone stand
A. yo homeboy - what you drinkin' man

I got money, I got juice
I got to the party and I got loose
I got rhythms, I got rhymes
I got the girlies with the Def behinds
I got ill, I got busted
I got dust and I got dusted
I got gold, I got funky
I got the new dance they call the Brass Monkey

Because I'm hard hittin' always biten cool as hell
I got trees on my mirror so my car won't smell
Sittin' around the house gettin' high and watchin' tube
Eating Colonel's chicken drinkin' Heineken brew
I'm a gangster, I'm a prankster I'm the king of the Ave.
I'm hated, confrontated for the juice that I have
All the fly ladies are making a fuss
But I can't pay attention 'cause I'm on that dust

. . .


Girls, all I really want is girls
And in the morning it's girls
Cause in the evening it's girls

I like the way that they walk
And it's chill to hear them talk
And I can always make them smile
From White Castle to the Nile

Back in the day
There was this girl around the way
She liked by home-piece M.C.A.
He said he would not give her play
I asked him, "Please?" he said, "You may."
Her pants were tight and that's ok
If she would dance I would D.J.
We took a walk down to the bay

I hope she'll say, "Hey me and you should hit the hay!"
I asked her out she said, "No way!"
I should have probably guessed their gay
So I broke North with no delay
I heard she moved real far away
That was two years ago this May
I seen her just the other day
Jockin' Mike D. to my dismay

Girls - to do the dishes
Girls - to clean up my room
Girls - to do the laundry
Girls - and in the bathroom
Girls, that's all I really want is girls
Two at a time I want girls
With new wave hairdos I want girls
I ought to whip out my girls, girls, girls, girls, girls!

. . .


Kick it!

You wake up late for school man you don't wanna go
You ask you mom, "Please?" but she still says, "No!"
You missed two classes and no homework
But your teacher preaches class like you're some kind of jerk

You gotta fight for your right to party

You pops caught you smoking and he said, "No way!"
That hypocrite smokes two packs a day
Man, living at home is such a drag
Now your mom threw away your best porno mag Bust it!

[repeat chorus]

Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wear
I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut that hair
Your mom busted in and said, "What's that noise?"
Aw, mom you're just jealous it's the Beastie Boys!

[repeat chorus]

. . .



Foot on the pedal never ever false metal
Engine running hotter than a boiling kettle
My job's ain't a job it's a damn good time
City to city I'm running my rhymes
On location touring around the nation
Beastie Boys always on vacation
Itchy trigger finger but a stable turntable
I do what I do best because I'm illing and able
Ain't no faking your money I'm taking
Going coast to coast watching all the girlies shaking
While you're at the job working nine to five
The Beastie Boys at the Garden cold kickin' it live

No sleep till..
Another place another train
Another bottle in the brain
Another girl another fight
Another drive all night

Our manager's crazy he always smokes dust
He's got his own room at the back of the bus
Tour around the world you rock around the clock
Plane to hotel girls on the jock
We're thrashing hotels like it's going out of style
Gettin'paid along the way cause it's worth your while
Four on the floor Adrock's out the door
MCA's in the back because he's skeezin' with a whore
We got a safe in the trunk with money in a stack
With dice in the front and Brooklyn's in the back
white boys' got more rhymes

No sleep till..
No.. Sleep.. Till Brooklyn
No.. Sleep.. Till Brooklyn

Ain't seen the light since we started this band
So MCA get on the mic my man
Born and bred Brooklyn the USA
They call me Adam Yauch but I'm MCA
Like a lemon to a lime a lime to a lemon
I sip the def ale with all the fly women
Got limos arena the TV shows
Autograph pictures and classy hos
Step off homes get out of my way
Taxing little girlies form here to LA
Waking up before I get to sleep
Cause I'll be rocking this party eight days a week

No sleep till..
No.. Sleep.. Till Brooklyn
No.. Sleep.. Till Brooklyn
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (yeah)

No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)
No.. (no) Sleep.. (sleep) Till Brooklyn (brooklyn)

. . .


Now here's a little story I've got to tell
About three bad brothers you know so well
It started way back in history
With Adrock, M.C.A., and me - Mike D.
Been had a little horsy named Paul Revere
Just me and my horsy and a quart of beer
Riding across the land, kicking up sand
Sheriff's posse on my tail cause I'm in demand
One lonely Beastie I be
All by myself without nobody
The sun is beating down on my baseball hat
The air is gettin' hot the beer is getting flat
Lookin' for a girl I ran into a guy
His name is M.C.A., I said, "Howdy" he said, "Hi"

He told a little story that sounded well rehearsed
Four days on the run and that he's dying of thirst
The brew was in my hand and he was on my tip
His voice was hoarse, his throat was dry he asked me for a sip
He said, "Can I get some?"
I said, "You can't get none!"
Had a chance to run
He pulled out his shotgun
He was quick on the draw I thought I'd be dead
He put the gun to my head and this is what he said,

"Now my name is M.C.A. I've got a license to kill
I think you know what time it is it's time to get ill
Now what do we have here an outlaw and his beer
I run this land, you understand I make myself clear."
We stepped into the wind he had a gun, I had a grin
You think this story's over but it's ready to begin

"Now I got the gun you got the brew
You got two choices of what you can do
It's not a tough decision as you can see
I can blow you away or you can ride with me" I said, I'll ride with you if you can get me to the border
The sheriff's after me for what I did to his daughter
I did it like this, I did it like that
I did it with a whiffleball bat
So I'm on the run the cop's got my gun
And right about now it's time to have some fun
The King Adrock that is my name
And I know the fly spot where they got the champagne."
We rode for six hours then we hit the spot
The beat was a bumping and the girlies was hot
This dude was staring like he knows who we are
We took the empty spot next to him at the bar
M.C.A. said, "Yo, you know this kid?"
I said, "I didn't." but I know he did
The kid said, "Get ready cause this ain't funny
My name's Mike D. and I'm about to get money."
Pulled out the jammy aimed it at the sky
He yelled, "Stick 'em up!" and let two fly
Hands went up and people hit the floor
He wasted two kids that ran for the door
"I'm Mike D. and I get respect
Your cash and your jewelry is what I expect"
M.C.A. was with it and he's my ace
So I grabbed the piano player and I punched him in the face
The piano player's out the music stopped
His boy had beef and he got dropped
Mike D. grabbed the money M.C.A. snatched the gold
I grabbed two girlies and a beer that's cold.

. . .



"Hold it now - Hit it"
"Yo Leeroy"
Agh yea, yo Yauch, Yauch 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 he dresses so fly
I got friends in high places that are keeping me high
Dip 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 Leeroy"
"It's my drum it's my, hold it now, it's my rhyme"

MC Adam Yauch in the place to be
And 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 OE and Rice-a-Roni
I come out at night 'cause I sleep all day
Well I'm the King Adrock and he's MCA
Well I'm cruising I'm bruising 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 you got that juice
My name's Mike D. and I can do that Jerry Lewis

"Hold it now - Hit it"
"Yo Leeroy"
Yo that was real def man, try that again man
I like that def stuff boy

Hip-hop and body rockin' doing the do
Beer drinking, breath stinking, sniffing glue
Belly flipping, always illing, busting 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-skate, perpetrating money hungry jerk
Everyday I drink OE and I don't go to work
You drippy nose knuckle-head you're we behind the ears
You like men and we like beer

"Hold it now - Hit it"
"Yo Leeroy"
Bust that choco-lotto.
What huh yo man pass that over here alright..

King of the Ave. with the Def female
You're rhyming and stealin' with the freshest ale
King cooling at the crib watching my TV
Ed Norton Ted Knight and Mr E-D
Pump it up homeboy just don't stop
Chef Boy-ar-dee 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 Adrock that is my name
You all drinking Moet and we got the champagne
A quarter dropping going shopping buying wigs
Surgeon general cut professor DJ Thigs

"Hold it now - Hit it"
"Hit it"
"Hold it now - Hit it"

. . .


Brass Monkey - that funky Monkey
Brass Monkey junkie
That funky Monkey

Got this dance that's more than real
Drink Brass Monkey here's how you feel
Put your left leg down your right leg up
Tilt your head back let's finish the cup
M.C.A. with the bottle D. rocks the can
Adrock gets nice with Charlie Chan
We're offered Moet we don't mind Chivas
Wherever we go with bring the Monkey with us
Adrock drinks three Mike D. is D.
Double R. foots the bill most definitely
I drink Brass Monkey and I rock well
I got a Castle in Brooklyn that's where I dwell

[repeat chorus]

Cause I drink it anytime and anyplace
When it's time to get ill I pour it on my face
Monkey tastes Def when you pour it on ice
Come on y'all it's time to get nice
Coolin' by the lockers getting kind of funky
Me and the crew we're drinking Brass Monkey
This girl walked by she gave me the eye
I reached in the locker grabbed the Spanish Fly
I put it with the Monkey mixed it in the cup
Went over to the girl, "Yo baby, what's up?"
I offered her a sip the girl she gave me lip
It did begin the stuff wore in and now she's on my tip

[repeat chorus]

Step up to the bar put the girl down
She takes a big gulp and slaps it around
Take a sip - you can do it - you get right to it
We had a case in the place and we went right through it
You got a dry Martini thinking you're cool
I'll take your place at the bar I smack you off your stool
I'll down a '40 dog" in a single gulp
And if you got beef you'll get beat to a pulp
Monkey and parties and reelin' and rockin'
Def, def - girls, girls - all y'all jockin'
The song and dance keeping you in a trance
If you don't buy my record I got my advance
I drink it - I think it - I see it - I be it
I love Brass Monkey but I won't give D. it
We got the bottle you got the cup
Come on everybody let's get ffffff

[repeat chorus]

. . .


Let it flow - let yourself go
Slow and low - that is the tempo

It's never old school all brand new
So everybody catch the bugaloo flu
Not like a fever not like a cold
The beats are clear the rhymes are bold
So don't see a doctor or see a nurse
Just listen to the music first things first
First of all get off the wall
It's time to party so have a ball
We slowed it on down so get the hell up
Like a volcano I'll erupt
We got determination - bass and highs
White Castle fries only come in one size
What you see is what you get
And you ain't seen nothing yet

[repeat chorus]

I do not sing but I make a Def song
You could live your whole life and I hope you live long
On the Gong Show we won't get gonged
We're the Beastie Boys not Cheech and Chong
Strong as an ox fresh out the box
The crowd is so live they're coming in flocks
And when we go on the crowd goes off
It's all hard rock there's nothing soft

[repeat chorus]

We don't only rock the house but we'll house we rock
We don't stroll but we roll straight to the top
M.C.A., Adrock, Mike D. makes three
And we can do it like this in the place to be
When I'm recorded you'll be rewarded
I know my song is Def 'cause you all applauded
Not P.C.P. or L.S.D. just me Mike D. in the place to be
This is not for free you must pay a fee
Cash on delivery like a C.O.D.

[repeat chorus]

The beat is slow in order to dance
I wanna hear I dos and no I can'ts
First you move your legs and then your arms
It's not fast and nervous this dance is calm
It's truly stable and you ought to be able
To dance to the record when it's on the turntable

[repeat chorus]

. . .


I'm not the type of person who likes to waste my time
And when I'm on the mic I just say my rhymes
Because I'm out on bail the check is in the mail
They can sentence me to life but I won't go to jail
I'm cool calm collected from class I was ejected
Just me, Mike D., and M.C.A. we're rarely disrespected
I got all the time that I need to kill
What's the time? it's time to get ill

You been fully captivated by that funky ass bass
Your girlfriend screams when M.C.A.'s in the place
He stumbles in the room with the Chivas in his hand
Cold chillin' on the spot at the microphone stand
I'd have the pedal to the metal if I had a car
But I'm chiller with the Miller cold coolin' at the bar
I can drink a quart of Monkey and still stand still
What's the time? it's time to get ill

Went outside my house I went down to the deli
I spent my last dime to refill my fat belly
I got rhymes galime I got rhymes galilla
And I got more rhymes than Phillis Diller
M.C.A. takes a stand man you're in command
Homeboy, turn it out and don't give a damn
My name is M.C.A. I've got a license to kill
What's the time? it's time to get ill

Riding down the block with my box in my hand
Today I feel like chillin' just as chill as I can
Coolin' on the corner with a forty of O.E.
'Cause me and M.C.A. we're down with Mike D.
When I run a jam I don't give a damn
When I'm throwing bass I say, "Thank you ma'am."
Fuel injected, rhyme connected running things
I'm the King Adrock and I'm the king of all kings
I'm looking for a spot things are gettin' hot
I'm M.C.A., I'm here to stay and you sir, are not
Oh no, it could not be it's such a sight to see
It's such a trip you're on my tip so listen to Mike D.
My work is my play cause I'm playing when I work
My name's Mike D., as you can see and I can dot the jerk
M.C.A., Adrock, Mike D. - it's chill
What's the time? it's time to get ill

. . .


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