nonstop disco power pack

Well how you feelin
Ad Rock? Well
Im feelin well
Bonafide, qualified, with a story to tell
Well how feelin
Mike D? Well
I feel all good
All day is how we play in the neighborhood
Well how you feelin
MCA? Well
I feel right
I swing my words on the track cause the track sound tight
So if youre feelin good and youre feelin right
Uh, somebody step up and grab the mic
Well hello everybody and how you been?
Its Ad Rock rappin on the microphone again
I got grace, class, style, finesse and debonaire
Murderize motherfuckers cause
I just dont care
The MC whisperer, kinda like a trainer
I take sucker rappers,
I put em through a strainer
Like macaroni cause the shit sound cheesy
Watch how its done boy, it looks easy
The nonstop, goin off, kingpin, microphone boss
Do my own thing, you cant afford the cost
Of my fly styles that complete the turnstile
Cause its live and direct, and
Im wiggidy wild
Now put you back on the floor,
I got total control
I flow like the water out your toilet bowls
Your style is cheap boy, just like the
DutchYou know youre not smokin on the microphone much
Theres a certain special talent that
I never lack
Ha-ha! And thats a fact
Cause we shine like the chrome on a
CadillacYou better break a wishbone cause we never waxin
Then we never that, and that is that
And were the nonstop disco powerpack
Uh, thats right, we go all night
Who gonna be next to bless the mic?
Now this is the way we run it down
Were gettin you high on the funky sound
This is the way we get it on
B-Boys in the house til the break of dawn
See I mix my style up like a cement mixer
Smoothll fix ya like a rhyme elixir
Hey yo yo soundman, make
Mikes mic louder
Dont make me sound cheap like a box of douche powder
Ill max and relax, champagne, no ego
Dont go commando, dont know bandito
Je mappelle
Michel, Paris nord
We were born in the chateau, we got it goin on
Quincys in the hot tub like its 73
Lookin over his shoulder and hes lookin at me
Im up right in the face, towel around my waist
Whats up with that watch inside the glass case?
I go to make my move, sneak out the place
Undetected, not leavin a trace
Partys done, microphone track
Rhymes been jumped, and heads been checked
I see one last profiterol,
I make my play
And pass the microphone to
MCANonstop, from the top
When you clock, then we rock
Them not kickin, them not stickin, we be makin hip hop
So cmon everybody get down
Now theres a spot check, get the deck count down
Cause Ima break it down for ya how we burn it down
Pound for pound, keep the basslines round
See you watchin, clockin, jockin my sound
Before I got big
I grew up with hip hop
Still got mad love for a record called
Beat RockIt mean a lot spinnin on my
WalkmanShout out to the
Afrika Bam
And to the
X to the P the double-
O-N-YThe one
MC, who you cant deny
At least he threw me records that made heads fly
Sit down to write and the pen blazed fire
Construct a rhyme with specific intent
Flippin all the braincells right to the pen
And then I put the root down when
I pull the mic
Words flowin so cold, turn water to ice
Come through the wire such a break to tape
You put me in the mix like set up at the plate
And then they press it on wax, sell it in the store
The DJs spin it, kick it out on the dancefloor
Comin through the speaker to shake your eardrum
Braincells get with it make you hear where were from
Ad Rock, huh, get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Now Mike D, huh, get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
And MCA, yeah, get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of dawn
Beastie Boys in the house, dont stop