Shake Your Rump Lyrics

(Beastie Boys/Dust Bros.) 
                                        
     Now I rock a house party at the drop of a hat Yea...
     I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat
     a lot of people they be Jonesin' just to hear me rock the mic
     they'll be staring at the radio
     staying up all night
     so like a pimp I'm pimpin'
     I got a boat to eat shrimp in
     Nothing wrong with my leg just B-boy limpin'
     Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float
     My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat
     oowah oowah is my disco call
     MCA hu-huh I'm gettin' rope y'all
     Routines I bust and the rhymes that I write
     And I'll be busting routines and rhymes all night
     Like eating burgers or chicken or you'll be picking your nose man
     I'm on time homie... that's how it goes
     You heard my style I think you missed the point
     It's the joint
     Mike D yea... with your bad self running things what was that... 
     With your bad breath onion rings
     Well I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead
     Chillin' at the beach down at Club Med
     Make another record 'cause the people they want more of this
     Suckers they be saying they can take out Adam Horovitz
     Hurricane you got clout
     Other DJ's he'll put your head out
     A puppet on a string I'm paid to sing or rhyme
     Or do my thing I'm
     In a lava lamp inside my brain hotel
     I might be freakin' or peakin' but I rock well
     The Patty Duke the wrench and then I bust the tango
     Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango Kangols
     I got the peg leg at the end of my stump
     Shake your rump
     A full clout ya'll, a full clout ya'll
     And when the mic is in my mouth I turn it out ya'll
     A full clout...
     Never been dumped 'cause I'm the most mackinest
     Never been jumped 'cause I'm known the most packinest
     Yeah we've got beef chief
     We're knocking out teeth chief
     And if you don't believe us you should question your belief Keith
     I'm Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat
     Like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet
     Should I have another sip no skip it
     In the back of the ride and bust with the whippet
     Rope a dope dookies all around the neck
     *Whoo ha yo garcon the cheque*
     Running from the law the press and the parents
     *Is your name Michael Diamond?*
     No mine's Clarence
     From downtown Manhattan the village
     My style is wild and you know that it still is
     Disco bag schlepping and you're doing the bump
     Shake your rump
     Agh-oooooo....