Goodbye Yauch; we’ll see you on the other side…

You will rise again… that is, unless you’ve become too enlightened while you were here.


I have [fond] memories of listening to his music all the way back to being 13/14, skating to the liquor store to “fish” for someone to get us alcohol and then skating all the way back with 12-packs along busy streets, drinking beer, and sleeping in a tent in my friends front yard (along with 4-7 other guys).  License to Ill and Paul’s Boutique was practically our soundtrack for mischief… with me through good and bad (bad times, like the time I was so sick I could barely walk from the parking lot to our seats when I went to see them in ’95 in Oakland).  “3 Minute Rule” is running through my phones as I type this. 


One lonely Beastie I be
All by myself, without nobody
The sun is beatin’ down on my baseball hat
The air is gettin’ hot, the beer is gettin’ flat

Lookin’ for a girl, I ran into a guy
His name is MCA, I said, “Howdy,” he said, “Hi”

He told a little story that sounded well rehearsed
Four days on the run and that he’s dying of thirst
The brew was in my hand and he was on my tip
His voice was hoarse, his throat was dry, he asked me for a sip

He said, “Can I get some?” I said, “You can’t get none”
And I had a chance to run, he pulled out his shotgun
Quick on the draw, I thought I’d be dead
He put the gun to my head and this is what he said

“Now my name is MCA, I got a license to kill
I think you know what time it is, it’s time to get ill
Now what do we have here? An outlaw and his beer?
I run this land, you understand? I made myself clear”


Thanks Adam. 


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