B-Boy Bouillabaisse: Stop That Train - Beastie Boys

It’s 4am, I’ve got the Hasenpfeffer Ale

I’ve got nothing to lose, so I’m pissing on the third rail

Groggy-eyed and fried, and I’m headed for the station

D-train ride to Coney Island vacation

This one’s… Dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1-train

They’ll be kicking out windows, high on cocaine

And then I jump the turnstyle, I lost my last token

Riding between the cars, pissing, smoking

Head for the last car, fluorescent light blackout

Policeman told my homeboy, yo, put that crack out

You know you light up when the lights go down

And then you read the New York Post, Fulton Street, downtown

Same faces every day, but you don’t know their names

Party people going places on the D train

Check it

Trench coat, wingtip, going to work

And you’ll be pullin a train like you’re Captain Kirk

Pickpocket gangsters, payin' their debts

I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernhard Goetz

Overworked and underpaid, starin at the floor

Prostitutes spandex caught in the slide doors

Now stuck between the stations it seems like an eternity

Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity

$ 50.00 fine for disturbing the peace

The neck, tortoise, your Lees are creased

Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are Dunkin

Friday night and Jamaica Queens funkin

Elevated platform, I’m never gonna conform

Riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm

Bust into the conductor’s booth and busted out rhymes

Over the loudspeaker about the hard times

Sat across from a man readin El Diario

Riding the train down from the El Barrio

Went from the station, to Orange Julius

I bought a hot dog — from WHO?

George Drakoulias