Just plug me in just like I was Eddie Harris
You're eating crazy cheese like you'd think I'm from Paris
You know I get fly
You think I get high
You know that I'm gone and I'ma tell you all why

So tell me who are you dissing
Maybe I'm missing
The reason that you're smiling or wilding
So listen in my head I just want to take 'em down
Imagination set loose and I'm gonna shake 'em down

Let it flow like a mud slide
When I get on I like to ride and glide
I've got depth of perception in my text y'all
I get props at my mention 'cause I vex y'All

So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want)
I get so funny with the money that you flaunt (you flaunt)
I said where'd you get your information from huh?
You think that you can front when revelation comes

(yeah, you can't front on that)

Well they call me Mike D, the ever loving man
I'm like Spoonie Gee well I'm the metropolitician
You scream and you holler
About my Chevy Impala
But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar

But like a dream I'm flowing without no stopping
Sweeter than a cherry pie with ready whip topping
From mic to mic
Kickin' It wall to wall
Well I'll be calling out you people like a casting call

Well it's wack when you're jacked in the back of a ride
With your know with your flow when you're out getting by
Believe me
What you see is what you get
And you see me
I'm coming off as you can bet

Well I think I'm losing my mind this time
This time I'm losing my mind
That's right, said I think I'm losing my mind this time
This Time I'm Losing My Mind

(yeah, you can't front on that)

But little do you know about something that I talk about
I'm tired of driving it's due time that I walk about
But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise
Got eyes in the back of my head so I realize

Well I'm dr. Spock I'm here to rock y'all
I want you off the wall if you're playing the wall
I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (said what'cha want)
I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want)

Y'all suckers write me checks and then they bounce
So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount
See I'm the long leaner, Vincent the cleaner
I'm the illest motherfucker from here to gardena

Well I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce
You've got the rhyme and reason but got no cause
Well if you're hot to trot you think you're slicker than Grease
I've got news, for you crews, you'll be sucking like a leach

(yeah, you can't front on that)

So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want)
So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want)
I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want)
I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want)

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Composição: Beastie Boys · Esse não é o compositor? Nos avise.
Enviada por Tatiana, Traduzida por Marina, Legendado por Claudia
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