In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Which of you schnooks took my rhyme book, look
Give it back, you're wicky-wack
With your ticky-tack calls, didn't touch you at all
I didn't touch your hand, man, you know it's all ball
You sold a few records but don't get slick
'Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits
Yeah you've been in the game, your career is long
But when you really break it down, you've only got two songs
MCs are like clay pigeons and I'm shootin' skeet
I just yell pull and Mike drops the beat
You people call yourselves MCs but you're garbage men
Takin' out the trash when you pull out the pen
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Comin' in
Now, I read about you up on page six
They was trashin' your ass it's sad you're getting dissed
Now talk about your face now don't get pissed
But I suggest you see a dermatologist
I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak
It's gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak
I've got billions and billions of rhymes to flex
'Cause I've got more rhymes than Carl Sagan's got turtlenecks
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch
You're hearing me and you're like "oh my God its Sasquatch!"
But I'm walkin' on water while you're stepping in shit
So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets licked
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
And it you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Sucker MC's it's me they're resenting
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting
With the dipsy doo-doo the kit and kaboodle
The truth is brutal, your grandma's kugel
Kings County is my stomping ground
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown
So don't ask me to wine and dine ya
I'm from Brooklyn you're from Regina
You're like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam
You're just yellin', wildin', wondering who I am
With those lies you're telling you're like Toucan Sam
My style's impregnable like the Hoover Dam
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Wow, what a loser!
Give it back, you're wicky-wack
With your ticky-tack calls, didn't touch you at all
I didn't touch your hand, man, you know it's all ball
You sold a few records but don't get slick
'Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits
Yeah you've been in the game, your career is long
But when you really break it down, you've only got two songs
MCs are like clay pigeons and I'm shootin' skeet
I just yell pull and Mike drops the beat
You people call yourselves MCs but you're garbage men
Takin' out the trash when you pull out the pen
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Comin' in
Now, I read about you up on page six
They was trashin' your ass it's sad you're getting dissed
Now talk about your face now don't get pissed
But I suggest you see a dermatologist
I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak
It's gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak
I've got billions and billions of rhymes to flex
'Cause I've got more rhymes than Carl Sagan's got turtlenecks
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch
You're hearing me and you're like "oh my God its Sasquatch!"
But I'm walkin' on water while you're stepping in shit
So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets licked
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
So put a quarter in your ass 'cause you played yourself
And it you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Sucker MC's it's me they're resenting
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting
With the dipsy doo-doo the kit and kaboodle
The truth is brutal, your grandma's kugel
Kings County is my stomping ground
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown
So don't ask me to wine and dine ya
I'm from Brooklyn you're from Regina
You're like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam
You're just yellin', wildin', wondering who I am
With those lies you're telling you're like Toucan Sam
My style's impregnable like the Hoover Dam
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
And if you don't like it, then hey, fuck you
Wow, what a loser!
Lyrics submitted by maggotbrain
Hey Fuck You Lyrics as written by Adam Yauch Michael Diamond
Lyrics © CAK MUSIC PUBLISHING, INC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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that is like a cool song name