Come on Mike let's tear it up
 Hear no evil see no evil talking no bullshit
 So many damn people are so damn full of it
 Keyboard money mark you know he's not having it
 Just give him some money and he'll build you a cabinet
 I'm convinced that Vince is ripping me off
 I think it's his girdle that's tipping me off
 Mike D's out back and he's growing onions
 I've got bigger buds than my man Paul Bunyon's
 I've been going nuts gettin' cooped up
 Fully hermitizing but now I'm getting souped up
 It's time to turn on a brand new chapter
 Setting my sights and you know what I'm after
 I'll be in the paper the news with Ernie Ernesto
 They'll even print my recipe for pasta with pesto
 Now here's another special of the day
 I've got more spice than the frugal gourmet
 Well Mike D. what you got for me
 Show these good people what it means to be D.
 Well they call me Mike D. with the mad man style
 I put the mic up to my lips and I can scream for a while
 Created a sound at which many were shocked
 I've got million ideas that I ain't even rocked
 I've got the light bulb flashing on the top of my head
 Never wake up on the wrong side of the bed
 You're an idea man not a yes man
 With a point to make you're bound to take a stand
 'Cause I'm Pete the Puma Minnie the Moocher
 Got every type of flavor that will suit 'ya
 You know the bass is real fat 'cause it's gotta be like that
 A snare on the funky tin and the taste of high hat
 Yo Yauch what's up? Mike D. what's up?
 Come on Yauch let's tear it up
 I could catch a groove like a flash in the dark
 Grab a hold of your attention like a thief in the park
 'Cause I can flip a rhyme off the tip of my tongue
 Switching up the rhythm like the rhyme's a piece of chewing gum
 Now I might chew but I don't bite
 My ideas are mine when I begin to write
 In my sleep I'll be thinkin' 'bout beats
 And gettin' on the mic and busting some treats
 And sporting the crazy funky threads that you never ever seen before
 What I'm lacking from macking I can find at the thrift store
 I won't scuff nor scuffle just grin as I walk by
 Take time to rhyme for a girl I hear talk fly
 Down some Papaya down with the revolution
 Always wear my goggles 'cause there's so much pollution
 I can do the Freak, the Patty Duke and the Spank
 Gotta free the funky fish from the funky fish tanks
 I'll sell my house, sell my car and I'll sell all my stuff
 "I'm going back to New York city I do believe I've had enough