Beastie Boys

Ch-Check It Out

Solid Gold Hits, 3m 10sec

Ch-Check It Out
  • Ch-Check It Out


Beastie Boys

All you Trekkies and TV addicts
Don't mean to diss don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in the fuckin' house
Grab your backstreet friend and get loud
Blowin' doors off hinges
I'll grab you with the pinchers
And no I didn't retire
I'll snatch you up with the needle nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha got the ill boat
You've never seen before glidin' in the glades
And like Lorne Greene you know I get paid
Like Caprese and with the basil
Not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'm a motherfuckin' "Nick at night" with
Classics rerunning that you know all right
Now remain calm no alarm cause my farm ain't fat
So what's up with that
I've got friends and family that I respect
When I think I'm too good they put me in check
So believe when I say I'm no better than you
Except when I rap so I guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop
Guaranteed to make your body rock

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

Said, Doc what's the condition
I'm a man that's on a mission
Said, son, you'd better listen
Stuck in your ass is an electrician
Like a scientist
Mmmm when I'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind
Like Einstein and the rappin' Duke combined
Hey baby bubba now what the deal
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi some hot potato
I stole your mic and you won't see it later
Cause I work magic like a magician
I add up like a mathematician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer
I wear cotton but I don't wear sheer

Shazam and abracadabra
In the whip I'm gonna cruise past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself
Put that shit back on the shelf
Light rays blazin'
You're out of phase, and my crews amazin'
We're working on the record yo
So stay patient


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
I am the one with the clientele
You say, Ad Rock, you rock so well
I've got class like pink champale
MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale

Don't test me they can't arrest me
I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset, yo calm down
You look cable guy dunked off of your crown
I flow like smoke out a chimney
You never been me, you want to rap
But what you're making ain't Hip Hop be

Get your clothes right out the dryer
Put armor all up on your tire
Sport that fresh attire
Tonight we goin' out set the town on fire
Set the town ablaze gonna stun and amaze
Ready to throw a craze
Make your granny shake her head
And say, those were the days


Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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