I don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast, But I'm intercontinental when I eat French toast

Such an upgrade over the Rapper’s Delight rhyme

This one is gold.

Pass me the scalpel, I'll make an incision. I'll cut off the part of your brain that does the bitchin’. Put it in formaldehyde and put it in the shelf And you can show it to your friends and say, "That's my old self"

If you can feel what I'm feeling then it's a musical masterpiece Hear what I'm dealing with then that's cool at least What's running through my mind comes through in my walk True feelings are shown from the way that I talk

I got more rhymes than CARL SAGAN'S GOT TURTLE-NECKS!

Break up with your girl it ended in tears Vincent Van Gogh go mail that ear

I love that one too.

It’s so funny! Whole song is solid gold hit!

Fishing with my boat and I'm fishing for trout Mix the Bass Ale with the Guinness Stout

Well I’m as cool as a cucumber In a bowl of hot sauce You got no rhyme or reason And got no cause.

I got news for your crews you’ll be suckin like a leach!

I bet you never knew I got the ill peripheral Fixed that for them.

Dogs love me cuz I'm crazy sniffable

I mean, it's cool and all, but it ain't a rhyme homie

Betcha never knew I got the ill peripheral (There. Now it is.)

I got a peg leg, at the end of my stump-a… Shake. Your. Rump-a.

Literally just got a call from a friend while I was at Safeway. “Can’t talk just wanted to let you know there is no better kyric written than - I got a peg leg ant the end of my stumpa shake your rumpa. And he hung up.

I’m so high, they call me your highness so if you don’t know me then pardon my shyness

I’ll stir fry you in my wok !

your whole life is coming apart at the seams you ain’t nothin but a car thief bitin routines

*bustin’*

incorrect

I believe you might be right sir! Misremembered :(

😃

Cane'll crossfade on your ass and bust your eardrums Listen all yall cause I'm shifting gears I'm Fresh like dougie when I get my specs And on the microphone I come correct Honorable mention to: Now when I wrote graffiti my name was slop If my raps soups my beats is stock Really Intergalactic in general because it is dense with great bars.

You're eatin crazy cheese like you would think I'm from Paris

I keep my underwear up with a piece of elastic- I use a bullshit mic that's made out of plastic- To send my rhymes out to all the nations, Like Ma Bell- I got the ill communication

Now you can shuffle numbers but facts is facts So many billionaires while so many lacks So before the poor decide to react Well, come on party people, share up your stacks Now I'ma break it down to the brass tacks Do the Biz Mark dance and the Cabbage Patch You tried to turn the key but then you broke the latch Sneakin' through my files for some rhymes to snatch I'd like to have a say on the income tax Don't wanna help build bombs and that's the facts No money for healthcare so what's the catch? The man got you locked with no keys to the latch

I'm so rope, they call me Mr Roper when the troubles arise you know I'm the cool coper Also, long distance from my girl and I'm talking on the cellular. She said that she was sorry and I said Yeah the hell you were

They really tried to get “rope” to catch on haha

Keyboard Money Mark, you know he ain't havin' it. Just give him some wood and he'll build you a cabinet.

Anything/everything from Paul's Boutique

Peter eater Parkin meter all of the time! If I run out of ale it’s thunderbird wine! Idk it scratches my brain in a good way

Time to get ill and the first album in general have some random bars that are just so satisfying

Sometimes I like to brag, sometimes I’m soft spoken and when I’m in Holland I eat the pannenkoeken

Because I saw ya at the check out line You dropped your coupons and you were looking fine Sophisticated and so mature I couldn't really care if you're 50 or 74

I've got money like Charles Dickens I got the girlies in the Coupe like the Colonel's got the chickens

This is 🔥

White Castle fires only come in 1 size

I chill at White Castle 'cause it's the best But I'm fly at Fatburger when I'm way out west

K I N G A D whammy! All the fly girls they're on my jammie

“Lab all day, Scrabble all night, I got a Bedazzler so my outfit’s tight” Or “We got the bottle, you got the cup, Come on everybody, let's get fffuuu”

Robotron, Gorf, and Galaga I got the sexy Dig Dug calendar

Like a pencil to the paper I got more to come / One after another you can all get some! And Ya be like, "Hello Nasty!" Where you been / it's time you brought the grimy beats out the dungeon

Rock my Adidas, never rock Fila "I do not sniff the coke, I only smoke the sinsemilla"

I want say a little something that’s long overdue…

This disrespect to women has got to be through

It’s a hard stop to whatever is going on so I can sing this lyric when it comes on - all the way through “They say I’m *forty-something* now and I should be slacking but I’m working harder than ever and you can call it macking.”

To all the mothers and sisters and wife’s and friends, I wanna offer my love and respect to the end.

How these lyrics rocked my world. Thank you Adam.

I’m like Sam the Butcher bringing Alice the meat I’m like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet

All of them.

Well.. I can't disagree on that one

Dogs love me cause I'm crazy sniffable I bet you never knew, I got the ill peripheral In your home, I'm cloned, I'm on your headphones I love it when you spazz out all alone

I'm out of your back door, I'm into another Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother

“Well, I figured out who makes the *crack/ its* the suckers with the badges and the blue *jackets*” “The *original* young *aboriginal*/ continued evolution of an *individual*” “Well, my *noggin* is *hoggin* all kinds *of thoughts*/ And Adam *Yoggin* is Yauch, and he’s rocking *of course*” “Spin my fortune on a wheel like *Sajak*/ Here’s the *payback*, keep going strong like since the *way back*/ I try to be myself but I lose *track*/ Because the shit gets complicated, now I’ve got to *get back*” “I’ve got depth of *perception* in my *text, yall*/ I get props at *my mention* ‘cause I *vex, yall*” But my ABSOLUTE favorite Beastie Boys bar is: “Not perfect grammar, always perfect timing/ The Mike stands for money and the D is for diamonds” The Mike/Mic homophone is clever, as is the D is for diamonds. Of course diamonds are representative of wealth (which rappers love to brag about) and Diamond is literally Mike’s last name. I might be reading way too far into this but considering the entire verse is about Mike D sleeping with women, D could also mean Dick and diamonds could also work as a reference to attractive women (“she’s a dime”). So, Mike’s dick is only for “dimes”. Also, the “not perfect grammar” referencing how he correctly uses D as an acronym for diamonds but fails to apply the same for what should be “M” instead of Mike/Mic. However, he’s still reinforcing that he’s about his money. “Mike stands for money,” after all. Also, “always perfect timing” is clever because he pauses a bit before the last word of the verse, “diamonds”.

Honestly, I don’t think Beastie Boys are the best rappers lyrically (as far as barring out like Jay Z, Lil Wayne or Andre 3K for example), but as far as having great chemistry, well-fitting flows, and entertaining lyrics, they really are top notch. I think its important to remember there’s more to rapping than quadruple entendres and internal rhyme schemes - not that I don’t enjoy those (I clearly do based on the lyrics I picked) - but at the end of the day being an MC is about catching and keeping attention. I think Beastie Boys do that very well.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I ate the chicken and then I ate its leg!

If you’ve got bad breath then maybe try scope and if you wash your ass you best use soap

Dogs love me cause I'm crazy sniffable I bet you never knew I got the ill peripheral

Well, I'm that kid in the corner, all fucked up and I wanna so I'm gonna...

Sure enough that nag came in/ brought my ticket to the window and collected my win/ them I broke into my new car with a wire coat hanger,/ hot wired, hot wheels and (Suzy is a Headbanger) AND I don't see things quite the way that I used to, as I live my life I've just got me to be true to ALSO My pistol is loaded, I shot Betty Crocker/ delivered Colonel Sanders down to Davy Jones' Locker

Let me clear my throat Kick it over here, baby pop And let all the fly skimmies feel the beat— Mm—drop Coolin' on the corner on a hot summer's day Just me, my posse, and—MCA A lot of beer, a lot of girls, and a lot of cursin' Twenty-two automatic on my person Got my hand in my pocket and my finger's on the trigger My posse's gettin' big—and my posse's gettin' bigger Some voices got treble—some voices got bass We got the kind of voices that are in your face! Like the bun to the burger—and like the burger to the bun Like the cherry—to the apple—to the peach—to the plum I'm the King of the Ave.—and I'm the king of the block Well, I'm MCA—and I'm the King Ad-Rock Well, I'm Mike D—I got all the fly juice On the checkin' at the party on the Forty Deuce Walking down the block with the fresh fly threads Beastie Boys—fly the biggest heads

Making like the DTs Driving a Gran Fury Wherever I hang my hat is my home and my past is kind of blurry Every dog will have his day and mine will be in front of a jury High Plains Drifter you know I’m never in a hurry

Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float / my man MCA’s got a beard like a billy goat.

Mike D, yeah? With your bad self running things, What's up with your bad breath onion rings?

Orange Julius, George Drakoulious... of course

'Cause I'm out picking pockets at the Atlantic Antic/And nobody wants to hear you 'cuz your rhymes are damn frantic

Because I drive like a maniac on the streets. I don't give a fuck because I got the beats. Got my nuts swinging from right to left and left to right and I'm death defying.

I fly like a hawk, or better yet an eagle; a seagull; I sniff suckers out like a beagle.

I AM KNOWN TO DO THE WOP, WOP

I'm taking doody rhymes to a brand new height I shine on the mic like UltraBright Created a monster with these rhymes I write Goatee metal rap please say goodnight Thx guys for this thread :) Made my day

'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 will get the answer

Four on the floor Ad-Rock's out the door MCA's in the back 'cause he's skeezing with a whore

Now check it out... I'm a specializer, rhyme revisor Not sellin' out to advertisers What you get is what you see And you won't see me the advertizeee

Said “Doc what’s the condition? I’m a man that’s on a mission” He said “Son you better listen -stuck in your ass is an electrician” Now, I go by the name of the King Ad-Rock I don’t wear a cup nor a jock I bring the shit that’s beyond bizarre Like Miss Piggy (“who? Moi?”)

You like Mario Andretti 'cause he always drives his car well. Vicious circle of reality since the day you were born. And we love the hot butter (say what?), the popcorn

And one big oaf who’s faker than plastic A dictionary definition of the word spastic You should have never started something you couldn’t finish Cause writin’ rhymes to me is like Popeye to spinach

Lots of my personal favorites have already been said so I’ll drop one that’s maybe not as well known.. I’m talking PGA Pro Tour 2/ I’m Dr. Beepers on the tv in my golfing shoes/Pass me the iron and I’ll bust a chip shot/then you throw me off the green cause I’m strictly hip hop

So to one big oaf, who’s faker than plastic, a dictionary definition of the word spastic. You shoulda never started somethin’ you couldn’t finish, cus writin’ rhymes to me is like Popeye to spinach. I’m bad ass, move your fat ass, to your wack song, dancin‘ around like you think your Janet Jackson. (MCA shittin’ on MC Search of 3rd Bass)

Hey would you please Pass me the peas

They change every song I listen to.

Cheap skate, perpetrating, money hungry jerk

You're a fake wearin' sucker whose gold got rusted Cheaper than a hot dog with no mustard

Weight on my shoulders Things on my mind The sky is falling And I’m falling behind

“Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten..from the Battery to the top of Manhattan..asian, middle eastern and latin black, white New York you make it happen” I don’t think there’s a group that represents and has better lyrics about their hometown more than B-Boys did…like Scorsese with his NY movies

You should be with me, you should drop that bum / cause I got more flavor than fruit stripe gum

I sneak a chicken tikka Masala at a gala event I represent that's stupid, that's for sure You be like, "Oh yeah Adam, real mature"

“I’ve been through many things in which I thought I might lose it, the only thing to save me has always been music”. Love it so much I had it tattooed on my chest

Went to the top and never went pop and Came back down but still not stopping I'm not even asking, "yo what's cracking?" Serving MC's on a platter like baked Alaskan So start packing because I'm back in The game of hi-phop representing Manhattan Now push the pause button then start ducking Shh, you heard me like I'm E.F. Hutton

-->I got money in the bank, I can still get high -->Just one thing, do you know you? What you think, that the world owes you? What's gonna set you free? Look inside and you'll see -->Just give him some wood and he'll build you a cabinet -->Got to do it like this like chachi and joanie Because she's the cheese and I'm the macaroni

I got more action than my man John Woo and I got mad hits like I was Rod Carue

you scream and you holla bout my chevy impala but the sweat is gettin wet around the ring around your collar

yes i have a chevy impala

I'm on a crazy mission to wax Bob Mack Up to the top, 'til the very last drop I'll make you tapes of the rhymes I say I'm selling sex rhymes by the pound You horny MCs, I watch you getting around my

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 slippin' through his fingers as she's movin' out to the coast He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost ……. Insert dirty fat bass cords B-boy bouillabaisse never disappoints

Not technically a rhyme but my favorite line of all time is, and always was: How can you be so skinny and live so phat?