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


(chorus) She's on it


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


(repeat chorus)


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


(repeat chorus)


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


(repeat chorus)
Lyrics by The King Music by R. Rubin c 1986 by Def Jam Music Inc. (ASCAP)/Brooklyn Dust
Music (ASCAP) rights reserved 

Slow And Low 

(chorus) 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
Because 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


(repeat chorus)


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
(repeat chorus)
We don't only rock the house but we'll house we 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.
(repeat chorus)
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
(repeat chorus)
Lyrics by D. Hayden, D. McDaniels, J. Simmons Music by R. Rubin c 1986 by Def Jam Music Inc.
(ASCAP)/Brooklyn Dust Music (ASCAP) rights reserved 

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 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 0 she was strapped with a ruler
Went to the bathroom - rolled myself a wooler
With bottle in hand at the microphone stand
A. 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 trees on my mirror so my car won't smell
Sittin' around the house - gettin' high and watchin' tube
Eating Colonel's chicken - drinkin' Heineken brew
I'm a gangster, I'm a prankster - I'm the king of the Ave.
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
