Rock Hard lyrics - Beastie Boys

 First! First! First!

We're the b-boys, we don't regret

There's nothing wrong with your TV set

We're a gettin' loose

We couldn't be harder

Our beats are bigger and better and longer

Got real rock shit

You must admit

Not fake, not false, not counterfeit

I can play the drums, I can play guitar

Not just b-boys, but real rock stars

Rock, rock rock


When we blow up your ship, you better hit the deck

You'll walk the plank for your dis

Respect, respect, respect

If you front on the Rock, best run and hide

If you got static, we'll take it outside

And you start to get dulled by the Beastie Boys

Use real rock beats, show off big toys

Like claps of thunder from a cumulus cloud

Double R pump the beat and make it real loud

Loud

A, then scratch it


Heavy metal tension running through your blood

Too much rock, step off the pud

Too much treble, mid-range, and bass

The beat's so hard, it'll dick your face

You'll crush out hard rock, hard beats

Hard rock, cold rhythms for fanatic freaks

Some people say, "This has been done."

We're here, we're now

And the battle's won


Fists! Fists! Fists!

Fists of fury in an MC bout

Rock so hard it'll knock you out

The very first blow is the kick and the snare

The beat's so def that you better beware

When you're talkin' bass right in your face

The walls crumble down, destroying the place

The finishing touch is the vocals that slam

The final blow in the five finger jam


Some! Some! Some! Some!

Sometimes I write rhythms

Sometimes I write rhymes

He writes his, and I write mine

Rock 'n roll rhythms are raunchy and raucous

We're from Manhattan, you're from Secaucus

Mike D, Ad-Rock, and MCA

Not before long I can hear you say

In a way these boys got juice

They're goin' off you know they love to get loose

Get loose get loose

Poose

Gettin' the Ad-Ad-Ad-Rock


MCA Mike D. in the place to be

The Beastie Boys showin' off the toys

That's right

Uh, uh

In the place to be

You know it, you know it

AdRock, uh uh

When the party gets loose

Slop one, slop one

And you're goin' the boots

Everybody gettin' trouble

LOV on the New York C

Double R double R

Better off the by

Just takin' off the jile

Like I lost my style

Gonna' grab my rhyme

All the Negros the got style

Oh

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