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Beastie Boys

Genres: Hip-Hop

So Watcha' Want Lyrics - Beastie Boys

Well, just plug me in just like I was Eddie Harris 

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

You know I get fly, you think I get high 

You know that I'm gone and I'm-a tell you all why 

 

So tell me who are you dissing, maybe I'm missing 

The reason that you're smilin' or wildin', so listen 

In my head, I just want to take 'em down 

Imagination set loose and I'm gonna shake 'em down 

 

Let it flow like a mud-slide 

When I get on, I like to ride and glide 

I've got depth of perception in my text, y'all 

I get props at my mention cause I vex, y'all 

 

So what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

I get so funny with my money that you flaunt 

I said, "Where'd you get your information from," huh? 

You think that you can front when revelation comes? 

(Yeah, you can't front on that) 

 

Well they call me Mike D, the ever-loving man 

I'm like Spoonie Gee, I'm the metropolitician 

You scream and you holler, 'bout my Chevy Impala 

But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar 

 

But like a dream I'm flowing without no stopping 

Sweeter than a cherry pie with Reddi Whip topping 

From mic-to-mic, kickin' it wall-to-wall 

Well, I'll be calling out you people like a casting call 

 

Ah, well, it's wack when you're jacked in the back of a ride 

With your know, with your flow, when you're out getting by 

Believe me, what you see is what you get 

And you see me, I'm comin' off as you can bet 

 

Well I think I'm losing my mind, this time 

This time I'm losing my mind, that's right 

Said I think I'm losing my mind, this time 

This time, I'm losing my mind 

 

(Yeah, you can't front on that) 

 

But little do you know about something that I talk about 

I'm tired of driving, it's due time that I walkabout 

But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise 

I've got eyes in the back of my head so I realize 

 

Well, I'm Dr. Spock, I'm here to rock, y'all 

I want you off the wall, if you're playing the wall 

I said what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

I said what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

 

Y'all suckers write me checks and then they bounce 

So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount 

See, I'm the long-leaner, Vincent the Cleaner 

I'm the illest motherfucker from here to Gardena 

 

Well, I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce 

You've got the rhyme and reason, but got no cause 

But if you're hot to trot, you think you're slicker than grease 

I've got news for you crews, you'll be sucking like a leech 

 

Yeah, you can't front on that 

 

So what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

So what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

I said, what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

I said, what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) 

Writer:

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group