"Beastie Boys: Licensed To Ill" BEASTIE BOYS: "LICENSED TO ILL"






1) RHYMIN' AND STEALIN'
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 I'm 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
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
our captain Bligh is gonna die when we break his face
most illingest b-boy I got that feeling
I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

Ali Baba and the forty thieves
torching and crackin' 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
yo 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
most illingest b-boy I got that feeling
cause I am most ill and I'm rhymin' and stealin'

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 I 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
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King)


2) THE NEW STYLE
and on the cool checkin 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 Secaucus 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
I stepped into the party and the place was overpacked
saw the kid that dissed my homey and shot him in the back
I had to get a beeper 'cause my phone is tapped
you better keep your mouth shut because 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 girlie's 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
I've got the girlie's numbers from the places that I've 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 and you know that I did the smurf
taxing all the females from coast to coast
and when I get my fill I'm chilly most
we rag-tag 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 (he's) I'm way out west (check it!)
K-I-N-G-A-D Whammy
all the fly ladies are on my jammy
went to the prom wore the fly blue rental
got six girlies in my Lincoln Continental
I met this 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 on a high powered jumbo
rolled up a wooly and I watched Columbo
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 M.C.A.
a lot of beer a lot of girls and a lot of cursing
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 and the plum
I'm the king of the ave. and I'm the king of the block
well I'm M.C.A. 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
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin And The King)


3) SHE'S CRAFTY
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 her loose
I think I thought I seen her on eighth and forty-deuce
the next think she says, "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 this place
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 gets around
she's crafty she's always down
she's crafty and she's got a gripe
she's crafty and she's just my type
she's crafty

I spent my last dollar to buy 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
I asked her to come home and she couldn't say, "no!"
we got the crib there was Adam and D
we didn't say a word they just stared at me
I said, "I don't know her I 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 sleeping in the middle of the floor
she had taken the bed and the chest of drawers
the mirror, the tv, the new 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
she's crafty she gets around
she's crafty she's always down
she's crafty and she's got a gripe
she's crafty and she's just my type
she's crafty
(Lyrics By A. Yauch And The King
Music By R. Rubin And The King)


4) POSSE IN EFFECT
yes, yes, y'all and you don't stop
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 shoulda oughta hit him
had the fresh rhymes and the kid cold bit '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 whole 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
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin)


5) SLOW RIDE
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 a 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
hey yo homeboy what you drinkin' man

I got money I got juice
I got to the party and I got loose
I got rhythm 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 the trees on my mirror so my car won't smell
sittin' around the house gettin' high and watchin' tube
I'm eating Colonel's chicken drinkin' Heineken brew
and I'm a gangster, I'm a prankster I'm the king of the ave.
and 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
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By M. Diamond, R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King)


6) GIRLS
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 my 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've probably get the gang (???)
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!
(Lyrics By R. Rubin And The King
Music By R. Rubin)


7) FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT (TO PARTY)
you wake up late for school man you don't wanna go
you ask your 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

your pop caught you smoking man 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!)
you gotta fight for your right to party

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!
you gotta fight for your right to party
(Lyrics By R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin And A. Yauch )


8) NO SLEEP 'TIL BROOKLYN
no sleep 'til Brooklyn
foot on the pedal never ever false metal
engine running hotter than a boiling kettle
my job ain't a job it's a damn good time
city to city I'm running my rhymes
always 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 'til

another plane 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
getting paid along the way cause it's worth your while
four on the floor Adrock's out the door
M.C.A.'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
no sleep 'til Brooklyn

ain't seen the light since we started this band
M.C.A. get on the mic my man
born and bred in Brooklyn in the U.S.A.
they call me Adam Yauch but I'm M.C.A.
I'm like a lemon to a lime a lime to a lemon
I sip the def ale with all the fly women
limos, arena and tv shows
autograph pictures and classy hos
step off homes get out of my way
taxing little girlies from here to L.A.
waking up before I get to sleep
cause I'll be rocking this party eight days a week
no sleep 'til Brooklyn
(Lyrics By M.Diamond, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King)


9) PAUL REVERE
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
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 (yep)
I think you know what time it is it's time to get ill (yep)
now what do we have here an outlaw and his beer (huh huh)
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 cops 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
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
(Lyrics By D. McDaniels, J. Simmons, And The King
Music By R. Rubin, J. Simmons, And The King)


10) HOLD IT NOW HIT IT!
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 dress so fly
I got friends in high places that are keeping me high
get 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!

M.C. 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 "o.e." and rice-a-roni
I come out at night 'cause I sleep all day
and I'm the King Adrock and he's M.C.A.
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 got that juice
my name's Mike D and I can do that Jerry Lewis
hold it now- hit it!

hip-hop, body rockin' doing the do
beer drinking, breath stinking, sniffing glue
belly filling, 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 "o.e." and I don't go to work
you drippy nose knuckle-head you're wet behind the ears
you like men and we like beer
hold it now- hit it!

king of the ave. with the def female
you're rhyming and stealin' with the freshest ale
keep cooling at the crib watching my tv
Ed Norton Ted Knight and Mr. Ed
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
and I'm never dusting out cause I torch that crack
the King Adrock that is my name
you're drinking Moet we got the Champagne
a quarter dropping going shopping buying wigs
surgeon general cut professor d.j. Thigs
hold it now- hit it!
(Lyrics By M.Diamond, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By M. Diamond, R. Rubin, A. Yauch, And The King)


11) BRASS MONKEY
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
brass monkey that funky monkey
brass monkey junkie that funky monkey

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
brass monkey that funky monkey
brass monkey junkie that funky monkey

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
brass monkey that funky monkey
brass monkey junkie that funky monkey
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, A. Yauch And, The King
Music By R. Rubin )


12) SLOW AND LOW
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
let it flow let yourself go
slow and low that is the tempo

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
let it flow let yourself go
slow and low that is the tempo

we don't only rock the house but we'll house the 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 free you must pay a fee
cash on delivery like a C.O.D.
let it flow let yourself go
slow and low that is the tempo

the beat is slow in order to dance
I wanna hear I dos and no I can't
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
let it flow let yourself go
slow and low that is the tempo
(Lyrics By D. Hayden, D. McDaniels, J. Simmons
Music By R. Rubin)


13) TIME TO GET ILL
what's the time? it's time to get ill
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.
just 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
well 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, you 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 do the jerk
M.C.A., Adrock, Mike D it's chill
what's the time? it's time to get ill
(Lyrics By M. Diamond, A. Yauch, And The King
Music By R. Rubin And The King)


14) SHE'S ON IT
there's no confusion in her conclusion
she wants to waste my time and that's no delusion
her final decision is perfection and precision
she's grade a class number one in her division
she acts like a nag I don't know how it started
even when I'm chillin' she acts retarded
it's gets annoying so high on the tip
if a pirate had a def jam shirt she'd be hard on his tip
cold chillin' in the spot and she won't stop
she'll do what's best just to reach the top
she studies real hard all night she'll cram
in school she majors in advanced def jam
her bedroom eyes they start to twitch
but she won't front cause she's got that itch
she'd drop to her knees if I'd only say please
instead of counting sheep cold counting Beasties
(Lyrics By The King
Music By R. Rubin)


Last modified on May, 24th 1998. Send corrections to Moe

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