Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 3-Minute Rule, artist - Beastie Boys. Date of issue: 24.07.1989
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
3-Minute Rule |
| I stay up all night, I go to sleep watching Dragnet |
| Never sleep alone because Jimmy is the magnet |
| I’m so rope, they call me Mr. Roper |
| When the troubles arise, you know I’m the cool coper |
| On the mic I score, just like the Yankees |
| Get over on Miss Crabtree like my main man Spankee |
| Excuse me young lady, I don’t mean to trouble ya |
| But you’re lookin' so fly inside your BMW |
| I got lucky, I brought home the kitten |
| Before I got busy, I slipped on the mitten |
| Can’t get better odds because I’m a sure thing |
| Proud Mary keeps on turning and rolling like a Ring-Ding |
| Jump the turnstiles, never pay the toll |
| Doo-wah diddy and bust in with the pre-roll |
| Customs jailed me over an herb seed |
| Don’t rat on your boy over some rat weed |
| I’m outta your back door, I’m into another |
| Your boyfriend doesn’t know about me and your mother |
| Not perfect grammar, always perfect timing |
| The Mike stands for money and the D is for diamonds |
| Roses are red, the sky is blue |
| I got my barrel at your neck, so what the fuck you gonna do |
| It’s just two wheels and me, the wind in my eyes |
| The engine is the music and my nine’s by my side |
| Cause you know Y-A-U-C-H |
| I’m taking all emcees out in the place |
| Takin' life as it comes, no fool am I |
| I’m goin' off, gettin' paid, and I don’t ask why |
| Playin' beats on my box, makin' music for the many |
| Know a lot of def girls that’ll do anything |
| A lot of parents like to think I’m a villain |
| I’m just chillin', like Bob Dylan |
| Yeah, I smoke cheeba, it helps me with my brain |
| I might be a little dusted but I’m not insane |
| People come up to me and they try to talk shit |
| Man, I was making records when you were suckin' your mother’s dick |
| Girl, you’re walking tall now in your fancy clothes |
| You got fancy things, they’re going up your nose |
| You’re getting fancy gifts from expensive men |
| You’re a dog on a leash, like a pig in a pen |
| Mothership connection, getting girls' affection |
| If your life needs correction, don’t follow my direction |
| You got your 8 by 10, your agent, your Harley |
| You be driving around Hollywood with yo, 'Sorry, Charlie' |
| Cause I’m running things like some mack motherfucker |
| You slipin', you slackin', cause you’re a false fake sucker |
| You slip, you slack; |
| you clock me, and you lack |
| While I’m reading «On The Road» by my man, Jack Kerouac |
| Poetry in motion, coconut lotion |
| Had to diss the girl because she got too emotional |
| Are you experienced, little girl? |
| I want to know what goes on in your little girl world |
| Cause I’m on your mind, it’s hard to forget me |
| I’ll take your pride for a ride if you let me |
| So peace out, y’all, a PCP, song out |
| Full throttle to the bottle and full, full clout |
| And I’m out |