Lyrics:

All you Trekkies and TV addicts
Don't mean to dis, don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in the fucking house
Grab your backstreet friend and get loud

Blowin' doors off hinges
Grab you with the pinchers
And no, I didn't retire
I'll snatch you up with the needle nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha
With the ill boat you've never seen before
Gliding in the glades
And like Lorne Greene, you know I get paid

Like caprese with the basil
Not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'm a motherfucking Nick at Night
With classics rerunning that you know all right

Now remain calm, no alarm
'Cause my farm ain't fat, so whats up with that?
I've got friends and family that I respect
When I think I'm too good, they put me in check

So believe when I say I'm no better than you
Except when I rap, so I guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop
Guaranteed to make your body rock

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this mother fucking party out

I said, Doc, what's the condition?
I'm a man that's on a mission
He said, 'Son, you'd better listen.
Stuck in your ass is an electrician.'

Like a scientist
Mmm, when I'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind
Like Einstein and the Rappin' Duke combined

Hey baby bubba, now what the deal?
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi, some hot potato
I stole your mic and you won't see it later

'Cause I work magic like a magician
I add up like a mathematician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer
I wear cotton but I don't wear deer

Shazam! and Abracadabra!
In the whip I'm gonna cruise past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself
Put that shit back on the shelf

Light rays blazin'
You're out of phase and
My crews amazin'
We're working on the record yo, so stay patient

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin party out

Now, I go by the name of The King Ad-Rock
I don't wear a cup nor a jock
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre
Like Miss Piggy. Who moi?

I am the one with the clientele
You say, Ad-Rock, you rock so well
I've got class like Pink Champale
MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale

Don't test me, they can't arrest me
I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset yo, calm down
You look Cable Guy dunked off of your crown

I flow like smoke out a chimney
You never been me
You wanna rap
But what you're making ain't hip hop B

Get your clothes right out the dryer.
Put Armor All up on your tire
Sport that fressssshhhhhhhh attire
Tonight we goin' out set the town afire

Set the town ablaze
Gonna stun and amaze
Ready to throw a craze
Make your granny shake her head and say,
'Those were the days.'

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin party out