3-minute Rule Lyrics - Beastie Boys

I stay up all night, I go to sleep watching Dragnet 

Never sleep alone because Jimmy is the magnet 

I'm so rope, they call me Mr. Roper 

When the troubles arise, you know I'm the cool coper 

On the mic I score, just like the Yankees 

Get over on Miss Crabtree like my main man Spanky 

Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya 

Ya lookin' so hot inside your BMW 

I got lucky, I brought home the kitten 

Before I got busy I slipped on the mitten 

Can't get better odds because I'm a sure thing 

Proud Mary is a turning and rolling like a ring-ding 

Jump the turnstiles never pay the toll 

I did the doo-wah diddy and bust 'em with the pre-roll 

Customs jailed me over an herb seed 

Don't rat out your boy over some rat weed 

I'm out of your back door, I'm into another 

Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother 

Not perfect grammar, always perfect timing 

The Mike stands for money and the D is for diamonds 

Roses are red, the sky is blue 

I got my barrel at 'cha 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 Y-A-U-C-H 

I'm taking all MC's out in the place 

Taking life as it comes, no fool am I 

Going off, getting paid, and I don't ask why 

Playin' beats on my box, making music for the many 

Know a lot of def girls that are doing their thing 

A lot of parents like to think I'm a villain 

I'm just chillin', like Bob Dylan 

Yeah 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 was making records when you were sucking your mother's dick 

Girl, you're walking tall now in your fancy clothes 

You got fancy things that goin' up your nose 

You're getting fancy gifts from expensive men 

You're a dog on a leash like a pig in a pen 

Mothership connection, getting girls' affection 

If your life needs correction, don't follow my direction 

You got your 8x10, your agent, your Harley 

You'll be driving around Hollywood, yo, sorry Charlie 

'Cause I'm running things like some mack motherfucker 

You'll be slipping your slack in your face 

'Cause your a false fake sucker 

You slipped your slack, you cock me and you're wack 

While I'm reading "On The Road" by my man Jack Kerouac 

Poetry in motion, coconut lotion 

Had to diss the girl because she got to emotional 

Are you experienced little girl? 

I want to know what goes on in your little girl world 

'Cause I'm on your mind, it's hard to forget me 

I'll take your pride for a ride if you let me 

So peace out, y'all PCP, song out 

Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout 

And I'm out