Instrumenter
Ensembles
Genres
Komponister
Udøvende kunstnere

Tekster: Beastie Boys. Shake Your Rump.

Now I rock a house party at the drop of a hat
And I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat
A lot of people, they be jostlin' just to hear me rock the mic
They'll be staring at the radio, staying up all night
So like a pimp, I'm pimpin', I got a boat to eat shrimp in
Nothing wrong with my leg just b-boy limpin'
Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float
My man, MCA's got a beard like a billy goat

Oowah, oowah is the disco call
MCA hu-huh, I'm gettin' rope y'all
Routines and the rhymes that I write
And I'll be busting routines and rhymes all night
Like eating burgers or chicken or you'll be picking your nose
I'm on time, homies and that's how it goes
You heard my style, I think you missed the point
It's the joint

Mike D with your bad self running things
What's up with your bad breath onion rings?
Well, I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead
Chillin' with pig pen down at Club Med
Make another record 'cause the people they want more of this
Suckers they be saying they can take out Adam Horovitz
Hurricane you got clout, other DJ's, put take your head out

A puppet on a string, I'm paid to sing or rhyme
Or do my thing, I'm in a lava lamp
Inside the brain hotel, I might be peakin' or freakin', but I rock well
The patty duke, the wrench and then I bust the tango
Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango Kangols
I got the peg leg at the end of my stump
Shake your rumpa

A full flap Joe, a full flap Joe
And when the miker's in my mind then turn it out Joe
A full flap

Never been dumped 'cause I'm the most mackinest
Never been jumped 'cause I'm known the most packinest
Yeah, we've got beef chief, we're knocking out teeth chief
And if you don't believe us you should question your belief, Keith
Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat
Like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet
Should I have another sip? No skip it
In the back of the ride and bust with the whippet

Rope a dope dookies all around the neck
Whoo ha, yo garcon the cheque
Running from the law, the press and the parents
Is your name Michael Diamond?
No mine's Clarence
From downtown Manhattan the village
My style is wild and you know that it still is
Disco bag schlepping and you're doing the bump
Shake your rumpa