Music Video

Car Thief
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Beastie Boys
Beastie Boys
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Adam Horovitz
Adam Horovitz
Songwriter
Adam Yauch
Adam Yauch
Songwriter
Matt Dike
Matt Dike
Songwriter
John King
John King
Songwriter
Michael Diamond
Michael Diamond
Songwriter
Mike Simpson
Mike Simpson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Beastie Boys
Beastie Boys
Producer
The Dust Brothers
The Dust Brothers
Producer
Mario Caldato Jr
Mario Caldato Jr
Engineer
Allan Abrahamson
Allan Abrahamson
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Some static started in the pool hall Hit a motherfucker's face with the cue ball And I met this girl, she tried to gank me So I smacked her in the booty with a plank, B 'Cause me and my crew, we're out breaking windows The bingo, the lotto, you know I'll never win those Possession is half the law I had my routines before all of y'all Your whole life is coming apart at the seams You ain't nothing but a car thief biting routines See, I'm a city slicker, I, I ain't no townie Right now I wish I had another hash brownie And like Ricky always said, "You've got to toke and pass" Or Mookie's gonna kick your motherfucking ass Try to take what isn't yours, like a goddamn rat See I, personally, I wouldn't even wanna go out like that I'm a writer, a poet, a genius, I know it I don't buy cheeba, I grow it (I'm a farmer) People always trying to get next to me I had a beautiful experience on ecstasy I smoked up a bag of elephant tranquilizer Because I had to deal with a money-hungry miser Had a 'caine filled Kool with my man, Rush Rush Saw my teeth fall in the sink when I started to brush You be doing nose candy on the Bowie coke mirror My girl asked for some but I pretended not to hear her You can't deny me, you always want to try me Yo, you're just gonna get your ass kicked Homeboy, throw in the towel Your girl got dicked by Ricky Powell The Godfather of Soul in the belly of the beast Smoking that dust at St. Anthony's Feast All the wife beaters and all the tax cheaters Sitting in the White House, pulling their peters Buy my cheeba from the cop down the street The only cop with a rope chain when he's walking the beat So like a sneaky pouch time-bomb tickin' A-like the beat to my rhyme just kickin' Space cake cookies, I discover who I am I'm a dusted old bummy Hurdy Gurdy Man Five-O caught me, now I'm going to the mountains Said goodbye to my girl, my lawyer and accountants My mind is kinda rhymin' and I think I oughta think So I'm rockin' all the rhymes and I'll have another drink So the lights are flashin', my mind is spinnin' I feel like it is always the beginning of another rhyme I'm rappin', MCin', I rock You ain't nothin' but a car thief who must be stopped
Writer(s): Adam Nathaniel Yauch, Matt Dike, Adam Horovitz, Michael S. Simpson, Michael Louis Diamond, John Robert King Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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