3 Minute Rule Lyrics by Beastie Boys

3 Minute Rule Lyrics

    Stay up all night go to sleep watching Dragnet
    Never sleep alone because Jimmy's the magnet
    I'm so rope they call me Mr. Roper
    When the troubles arise I'm the cool coper
    On the mic I score just like the Yankees
    Get over on Ms. Crabtree like my main man Spankee
    Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya
    But you're looking mighty fine inside your B.M.W.
    I got lucky I brought home a kitten
    Before I got busy I schlepped on my mitten
    Can't get better odds cause I'm a sure thing
    Proud Mary keeps on turning rolling like a Ring Ding
    Jump the turnstile never pay the tool
    Doo wa diddy bust with the pre-roll
    Customs jail me over an herb seed
    Don't rat on your boy over some rat weed
    Not perfect grammar always perfect timing
    The Mike stands for money and the D. is for diamonds
    Out of your back door and into another
    Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother
    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 why a you see H.
    I'm takin' all M.C.'s out of 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 alota funky girls who like to do their thing
    A lot of parents like to think I'm a villain
    I'm just chillin' like Bob Dylan
    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've been making records since you were sucking on your mother's limp dick
    Girl you're walking tall now with your fancy clothes
    You got fancy things going up your nose
    You get fancy gifts from expensive men
    You're a dog on a leash like a pig in a pen
    Mothership connection getting girl's 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 yes sorry charlie
    Cause I'm running things like some Mack motherfucker
    Your only claim to fame is you're a false fake sucker
    You slip you slack you clock me you lack
    While I'm reading on the road by my man Jack Kerouac
    My veins are like vines
    Filled with red wine
    Poetry in motion coconut lotion
    I 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
    Give time for your mind it's hard to forget me
    I'll take your pride for a ride if you let me
    So peace out now, and keep peacing out
    Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout
    And I'm out

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