B-Boys Makin' With the Freak Freak

Saklig, ah, yeah B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak (oh, oh) B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak (somethin' brand new for you) B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak Yeah, yeah Puttin' songs together ain't no puzzle like Yahtzee Sending this one out to K-Rob and Rammellzee Well, let me introduce myself on this cut (woo) I'm Ad-Rock, I'm lit like a motherfuck Well, I'm brewing up rhymes like I was using a still Kickin' it old school flow like Mike McGill 'Cause Yauch's on the upright, this shit just ain't funny Got fat bass lines like Russell Simmons steals money Got clientele, you know I rock well And then you're on my dick because I'm DFL Yeah, Mike, 'cause playing the bass is my favorite shit I might be a hack on the stand-up but I'm working at it I got my hair cut correct like Anthony Mason Then I ride the IRT right up to Penn Station (yeah) Penn Station, up on 8th Ave Listen all of y'all, you get the ball back He's got Savoir Faire because he's debonair Well, Mike D with the vinyl, with the grooves so rare And the rhymes that we're kickin' are doo-doo B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak Shit, if this is gonna be that kind of party I'm gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatoes B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak Been bakin' with the freak-freak, so unique I've been learning from the elders, now it's time to speak Oh, that shit sounds nice Mike D, come on and get it on, y'all Talking shit about a mile a minute Put the wax on the table, let the DJ spin it Well, excuse me, motherfuckers, can I beg your pardon? I'm gonna see the Knicks up at Madison Square Garden And like the Knicks, I got game like I worked at Hasbro On the mic I bug, like I was Prince Jazzbo Well, the rhymes are stupid to make you go cuckoo You can't sleep 'cause you're Cindy Lou Who Down with the Hurra since the Raising Hell Tour Just listen to his cuts, there's no reason to tell more Yeah, Cindy what? I didn't catch the last one That shit sounded kinda nice, but bust a fast one Well, I'm not known for my speed raps So grab the microphone and cut out ya claps Ah, yeah, I like the shit, it's kind of rough I'll grab the microphone and fuck it up A'ight Well, I might seem out there, just a little deranged I've got to cool off, catch me on the driving range Well, I'm the ladies' choice like I was JJ Evans Legalize the weed and I'll say, "Thank heavens!" I'm talking PGA Pro Tour 2 I'm Doctor Beepers on the TV in my golfing shoes Pass me an iron and I'll bust a chip shot Then you throw me off the green 'cause I'm strictly hip-hop Yeah, I'll grab the tee, I'll team off I'll grab the golf clubs and I'm off, I'm Audi, so check me I've got the timbos on my toes when I'm not on the green I've got the custom made boots with the spikey things I'm working on my driving 'cause I'm going pro I've got the funky-fly golf gear from head to toe Yeah, the B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak 'cause it's unique-nique Mario's calling Nonni 'bout the pesto pizza And then he's on a mission and he's checking for peacha B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak B-Boys makin' with the freak-freak