1. Monday, October 7, 2002

    Beastie Boys 

    Paul’s Boutique

    Grand Royal Records


    Riddle me this brother can you handle it

    Your style to my style you can’t hold a candle to it

    Equinox symmetry and the balance is right

    Smokin’ and drinkin’ on a Tuesday night

    It’s not how you play the game it’s how you win it

    I cheat and steal and sin and I’m a cynic

    For those about to rock we salute you

    The dirty thoughts for dirty minds we contribute to

    I once was lost but now I’m found

    The music washes over and you’re one with the sound

    Who shall inherit the earth? the meek shall!

    I think I’m starting to peak now, Al

    and the man upstairs I hope that he cares

    If I had a penny for my thoughts I’d be a millionaire

    We’re just 3 M.C.’s and we’re on the go


    Only 24 hours in a day

    Only 12 notes a man can play

    Music for all and not just one people

    And now we’re gonna bust with the Putney Swope sequel

    More Adidas sneakers that a plumber got pliers

    Got more suits than Jacoby & Meyers

    If not for my vices my bugged out desires

    My year would be good just like Goodyear’s tires

    So I’m out pickin’ pockets at the Atlantic Antic

    And nobody wants to hear you cause your rhymes are so frantic

    I mix business with pleasure way too much

    I mean wine and women and song and such

    I don’t get blue I gotta mean red streak

    You don’t pay to play, yo, man, that’s weak

    Get even like Steven like pulling a Rambo


    Steal from the rich and I’m out robbing banks

    Give to the poor and I always give thanks

    Got more stories that J.D. Salinger

    I hold the title and you are the challenger

    I’ve got money like Charles Dickens

    Got the girlies in the hoopty like the Colonel’s got the chickens

    Always go out dapper like Harry S. Truman

    Inventor of Mad? Alfred E. Newman.

    *Never gonna let them say that I don’t love you*

    My noggin is hoggin all kinds of thoughts

    Adam Yoggin is Yauch and he’s rockin of course

    Smoke the holy chalice got my own religion

    Rally round the stage and check the funky dope musicians

    Jerry Lee Swaggart or Jerry Lee Falwell

    You love Mario Andretti cause he always drives his car well

    Vicious circle of reality since the day you were born

    And we love the hot butter on what? the popcorn.

    Sippin on wine and mackin

    Rockin on the stage with all the hands clappin

    Ride the wave of fate, it don’t ride me, boy

    *Being very proud to be an M.C.*

    And the man upstairs I hope that he cares

    If I had a penny for my thoughts I’d be a millionaire

    Amps and crossovers under my rear hood

    The bass is bumpin from the back of my Fleetwood

    They tell us what to do? hell no