(first! first! first!)
first white b-boys, we don’t regret
there’s nothing wrong, with your tv set
we’re a-gettin loose, we couldn’t be harder
our beats are bigger and badder and longer
got real rock sh*t, you must admit
not fake, not false, not counterfeit
i can play the drums, i can play guitar
not just b-boys, we’re real rock stars!
(rock! rock! rock! rock!)
when we blow up your ship, you better hit the deck
we’ll walk the plank where you get respect
if you front on the rock, best run and hide
if you got static, we’ll take it outside
and you’re sure to get dull by the beastie boys
we use real rock beats, show off big toys
like claps of thunder from the c*mulus clouds
double amp up the beats, and make it real loud!
…ah-then scrach it
[dj double r scratches]
heavy metal tension runnin through your blood
too much rock, step off the pud
too much treble, mid-range, and b*ss
the beat’s so hard it’ll dent your face
you’ll crush out, hard rock, hard beats
hard rock, cold rhythms for fanatic freaks
some people say this has been done
we’re here, we’re now, and the battle’s won!!
fists! fists! fists!
fists of fury in an mc bout
rock so hard it’ll knock you out
the very first blow is the kick and the snare
the beat is so def, so you better beware
with guitar and b*ss, are in your face
the walls crumble down, destroying the place
the finishing touch is the vocals that slam
the final blow in the five-finger jam!!
some! some! some! some!
sometimes i write rhythms, rather write rhymes
he writes his and i write mine
rock ‘n roll rhythms are raunchy and ruckus!
we’re from manhattan, you’re from secaucus
mike d, ad rock and mca!
not before long i could hear you say
in a way, a-these boys got juice
they’re goin’ off you know they love to get loose!
[outro: beastie boys ad-libs and guitar solo ’til end]