B-Boy Bouillabaisse

A. 59th Chrystie Street {*scratching: "Aw yeah!"*} There's a girl over there {*"Aw yeah!"*} With long brown hair {*"Aw yeah!"*} I took her to the place... I threw the mattress in her face... Took off her shirt {"*fresh"*} Took off her bra... Took off her pants {"*fresh"*} You know what I saw {"WICK WICK WACK!"} {*all laughing*} B. Get On the Mic One, two Right about now I'd like to dedicate this song Out to my main homey, Mike D A'ight, let's kick it Ready... go Get on the mic, get-get on the mic Just get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike! Lеt's be real, and don't cloud the issuе The rhymes are rope, an emcee you must listen to People say that they been missin' me and missin' you Get on the mic, and let's show them like we used to Well, you say fuck that, yo, Holmes, fuck this I'm the King AdWhammy and you're Dick Butkus One half science and another half soul Nicknamed Mike D, not Fat Morton Jelly Roll Got busy in 'Frisco, fooled around in Fresno Got over on your girlie 'cause you know she never says no So just get on the mic, just get on the mic Just get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike! Well, Mike D is a special individual Pullin' out knots and pullin' in residuals Go to the movies, get the Rolos The cholos ridin' slow and low Mike on the mic and bust with the solo Mike, my stromy, don't be so selfish Get on the mic cause you know you eat shellfish (At the fever) C. Stop That Train It's 4am, I've got the Hasenpfeffer Ale I've got nothing to lose, so I'm pissing on the third rail Groggy-eyed and fried, and I'm headed for the station D-train ride to Coney Island vacation This one’s… dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1-train They'll be kicking out windows, high on cocaine And then I jump the turnstile, I lost my last token Riding between the cars, pissing, smoking Head for the last car, fluorescent light blackout Policeman told my homeboy, "Yo, put that crack out" You know you light up when the lights go down And then you read the New York Post, Fulton Street, downtown Same faces every day, but you don't know their names Party people going places on the D train (Stop that train, I wanna get on) Check it Trench coat, wingtip, going to work And you'll be pullin a train like you're Captain Kirk Pickpocket gangsters, payin' their debts I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernhard Goetz Overworked and underpaid, starin' at the floor Prostitute's spandex caught in the slide doors Now you're stuck between the stations, it seems like an eternity Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity $50.00 fine for disturbing the peace The neck, tortoise, your Lees are creased Hot cup of coffee, and the donuts are Dunkin Friday night and Jamaica Queens funkin' Elevated platform, I'm never gonna conform Riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm Bust into the conductor's booth and busted out rhymes Over the loudspeaker about the hard times Sat across from a man readin El Diario Riding the train down from the El Barrio Went from the station, to Orange Julius I bought a hot dog - from WHO? George Drakoulias D. A Year and a Day M C for what I am, and do The A is for Adam, and the lyrics... true So as I pray and hope, that the message is sent And I am living in the dreams that I have dreamt Because I'm down with the three, the unstoppable three Me and Adam and D were born to emcee And my body and soul and mind are pure Not polluted or diluted or damaged beyond cure Just lyrics from I to you, recited Arrested, bailed, but cuffed and indicted Enter the arena as I take the center stage The lights set low, and the night has come of age Take the microphone in hand as I am a professional Speak my knowledge to the crowd, and the Ed is Special For I am the Bard, and I am the last one I am the king, and this is my castle Dwell in realms of now, but vidi those of the past Seen a glimpse from ahead, and I don't think it's gonna last And you can bet your ass I drop the L when I'm skiin' I'm smokin' and peakin' I put the skis on the roof almost every single weekend Can't stop the mindfuck when it's rollin' along Can't stop the smooth running when the shit's running strong Broke my bindings, the lion with wings Preaching his words in the b-boy sing I am one with myself, as I turn to thee Prefer the dreams to the reality I prefer my life, don't need no other man's wife Don't need no crazy lifestyle with stress and strife But it's good to have a turn to be a king for a day Or for a week, or for a year, or for a year and a day Come what may... I'm fishin' in my boat, and I'm fishing for trout Mix the Bass Ale with the Guinness Stout Fishing for a line inside my brain And looking out at the world through my window pane Every day has many colors 'cause the glass is stained Everything has changed but remains the same So once again the mirror raised, and I see myself as clear as day And I'm going to the limits of my ultimate destiny Feeling as though somebody, somewhere, is testing me He who sees the end from the beginning of time Looking forward through all the ages is, was, and always shall be Check the prophetic sections of the pages EZ Mike with the Disco Dave He goes by the name of the D-D-D-Disco Dave Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave Disco Dave E. Hello Brooklyn Hello Brooklyn! New York, New York - it's a hell of a town You know The Bronx is up, and I'm Brooklyn down Because they don't know my name - only know my initials Building bombs in the attic for elected officials I quit my job, I cut my hair You know, I cut my boss because I don't care You tried to get slick, you bust a little chuckle You're gonna get smacked with my gold finger knuckle 'Cause being as fly as me is something that you never thought of You'll be stickin' up old ladies with the handgun or the sawed-off I'm a buffalo soldier, broader than Broadway Keep keepin' on, I don't care what they say I play my stereo loud, I disturb my neighbors I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor 'Cause I am the holder of the three-pack bonanza If you open the book, then you will get your hand slapped I am the keeper of the three-pack bonanza If you ask a question, then you shall get the answer Her breast, I saw, I reached, I felt M, O-N, E-Y, the belt I stay at home, just like a hermit I got the jammy, but I don't got the permit (you know why) You got a boyfriend, and his name is Nick Annabelle caught with the shrimpy limp dick I ride around town 'cause my ride is fly I shot a man in Brooklyn ("just to watch him die") F. Dropping Names He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost She's slipping through his fingers, and she's moving out to the coast He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost Well, if your world was all black, and then your world was all white Well, then you wouldn't get much color out of life now, right? I'm nicknamed Shamrock, well, my name is not Shamus Girlies on the tippy 'cause my homey is famous My name is not O'Houlihee, nor is it Brian If I said that I was weak, man, you know I'd be lyin' Well, suckers try to bite, yeah, then try to pursue it Ya explain to a musician… Them knew it, but them can't do it G. Lay It on Me "Uh, funky baby Lay it on me now Not so hard, man" Yo… I've got Chinese eyes and Chinese suits (Lay it on me now) Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much boots More updated on the hip-hop lingo (Not so hard, man) My favorite New York Knick was Harthorne Wingo Met a girl at a party, and I gave her my card Man, you know that it said Napoleon Bonaparte (Lay it on me now) Peepin' out the colors, I be buggin' on Cezanne They call me Mike D, Joe Blow, the Lover Man Well, your face turns red as your glass of wine That you spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time (Lay it on me now) Girl, you should be with me, you should drop that bum 'Cause I got more flavor than Fruit Stripe Gum With that big round butt of yours I'd like to butter your muffin--I'm not bluffin' Serve you on a platter like Thanksgiving stuffin' ("And what it") Stuffing, stuffing Stuff it, buddy H. Mike on the Mic Here's another one for y'all to peep It's called M-I-K-E on the M-I-C See... I met this girl last night with a peculiar cackle I laid the bait, and then she took the tackle Had too much to drink at the Red Lobster Now the room is spinnin' 'round like the blades of a helicopter I never met a girl that was too finicky If the press has their way, then they're going to finish me You might know this, but you've never been this, see? If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D I shed light like cats shed fur Ride around town like I'm Raymond Burr I'm so high that they call me Your Highness So if you don't know me, then pardon my shyness I live in the Village, wherever I go I walk to I keep my friends around so I have someone to talk to I play my music loud because you know it's got clout to it {"It's a trip... it's got a FUNKY beat And I can bug out to it!"} I. AWOL {*DJ scratches: "Good times"} DJ Hurricane! When Mike D's in the house, what'cha gonna do? I go AWOL! Ad-Rock's in the house, what'cha gonna do? I go AWOL! When MCA's in the house, what'cha gonna do? I go AWOL! When Hurricane's in the house, what'cha gonna do? He goes AWOL! Cey City in the house, what'cha gonna do? Home-one, what'cha gonna do? Captain Pissy in the house… what'cha gonna do? Dust Brothers in the house, what'cha gonna do? Mike G in the house, what'cha gonna do? Mookie's the house, what'cha gonna do? Hollis Crew... what'cha gonna do? Jarvis in the house, what'cha gonna do? When Killa Cutty in the house, what'cha gonna do? Jazzy Jay in the house, Bad Brains in the house Original Concept in the house! Yo, good night Amsterdam {"Now I want you all to break this down"} To all the girls, all the girls... {"You liked it?"} {"Well, some of it seemed good!"}