Hey Fuck You Lyrics - Beastie Boys

Which of you schnooks took my rhyme book, look 

Give it back, you're wicky-wack 

With your ticky-tack calls, didn't touch you at all 

I didn't touch your hand, man, you know it's all ball 

You sold a few records but don't get slick 

'Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits 

Yeah you've been in the game, your career is long 

But when you really break it down, you've only got two songs 

MCs are like clay pigeons and I'm shootin' skeet 

I just yell pull and Mike drops the beat 

You people call yourselves MCs but you're garbage men 

Takin' out the trash when you pull out the pen 

And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you 

Comin' in 

Now, I read about you up on page six 

They was trashin' your ass it's sad you're getting dissed 

Now talk about your face now don't get pissed 

But I suggest you see a dermatologist 

I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak 

It's gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak 

I've got billions and billions of rhymes to flex 

'Cause I've got more rhymes than Carl Sagan's got turtlenecks 

Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch 

You're hearing me and you're like "oh my God its Sasquatch!" 

But I'm walkin' on water while you're stepping in shit 

So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets licked 

And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you 

So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself 

So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself 

So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself 

So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself 

And it you don't like it, then hey, fuck you 

Sucker MC's it's me they're resenting 

In the animal kingdom they call it presenting 

With the dipsy doo-doo the kit and kaboodle 

The truth is brutal, your grandma's kugel 

Kings County is my stomping ground 

The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown 

So don't ask me to wine and dine ya 

I'm from Brooklyn you're from Regina 

You're like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam 

You're just yellin', wildin', wondering who I am 

With those lies you're telling you're like Toucan Sam 

My style's impregnable like the Hoover Dam 

And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you 

And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you 

Wow, what a loser!