Teksty: Beastie Boys. Hot Sauce Committee Part 2. Say It.

Say it

To the heart of the matter, the mic I shatter
Say cold in the mic and make your teeth chatter
You climb the corporate ladder to make your pocket's fatter
We be flipping styles like pancake batter

Looking through your vinyl's, spying on me
I'm running like a rhino on a chicken spree
Call yourself an MC but what's you truth?
You got another noose inside the toll booth

Suckas sniffing on socks, chewing on rocks
My competition has the combination to the lock
You wanna get inside and then you best not knock
And then you get on you got to rock the spot

Once it hits your mind what you gonna do?
Don't keep it inside, you got to say it, let it out, let it out
Scream, run and shout, run and shout
Scream, gotta put it out, put it out, say it, gonna get it out, get it out

Now I can feel it in my blood stream, see it in the eyes
People lining up with their own demise
They have the man made troubles to monetize
Corporate violence we can't reply

You could keep 'em out of service at your cabana
You bust your ass Jones like you slipped on a banana
Like knick-knack paddy-whack, you got to let it out
From the vine to line to the world, give a shout

Line to the line, paper to the pen
A brand new dance called David Rodigan
You sure really wanna let me begin
You can't stop me rhyming when I let go

Life is good and then it gets you
Stuff you thought, it comes true

Once it hits your mind, what you gonna do?
Don't keep it inside, you got to say it, let it out, let it out
Scream, run and shout, run and shout
Scream, gotta put it out, put it out, say it, gonna get it out, get it out

Suckers