Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Michael Diamond, Adam Yauch, Adam Horowitz
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Beastie BoysCh-Check It Out Lyrics:
All you Trekkies and TV addicts
Don't mean to diss, don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in the fuckin' house
Grab your backstreet friend and get loud
Blowin' doors off hinges
I'll grab you with the pinchers
And no, I didn't retire, I'll snatch you up
With the needle nose pliers
Like mutual Omaha
Got the ill boat, you've never seen before
Gliding in the glades and like Lorne Greene
You know I get paid
Like caprese and with the basil
Not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'm a mother fucking nick at night
With classics rerunning that you know all right
Now remain calm, no alarm
'Cause my farm ain't fat, so what's up with that
I've got friends and family that I respect
When I think I'm too good, they put me in check
So believe when I say I'm no better than you
Except when I rap, so I guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop
Guaranteed to make your body rock
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about?
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out
Said,"Doc, what's the condition?
I'm a man that's on a mission
Said,"Son, you'd better listen
Stuck in your ass is an electrician
Like a scientist
Mmm when I'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind
Like Einstein and the rappin' Duke combined
Now, hey baby bubba, now what the deal
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi, some hot potato
I stole your mic and you won't see it later
'Cause I work magic like a magician
I add up like a mathematician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer
I wear cotton and I don't wear sheer
Shazam and abracadabra
In the whip I'm gonna cruise past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself
Put that shit back on the shelf
Light rays blazin'
You're out of phase and my crew's amazin'
We're working on the record yo
So just stay patient
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about?
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Now, I go by the name of the King Adrock
I don't wear a cup nor a jock
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre
Like Miss Piggy, who moi
I am the one with the clientele
You say,"Adrock, you rock so well"
I've got class like Pink Champale
MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale
Don't test me, they can't arrest me
I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset, yo calm down
You look cable guy dunked off of your crown
I flow like smoke out a chimney
You never been me
You wanna rap
But what you're making ain't hip hop B
Get your clothes right out the dryer
Put armor all up on your tire
Sport that fresh attire
Tonight we goin' out to set the town on fire
Set the town ablaze
Gonna stun and amaze
Ready to throw a craze
Make your granny shake her heada and say, "Those were the days"
Now, Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about?
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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