The Story of Paul Revere

Here's a little story I gots to tell about three bad brothas ya know so well. It started way back in history with that Rock, MCA & me, Mike D! He had a little horsey named Paul Revere. Just me & my horsey & a quart of beer...ridin' cross the land, kickin up sand. Sheriff Black is on my tail 'cause I'm in demand.

One lonely Beastie I be...all by myself without nobody. The sun is beatin down on my baseball cap. 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...4 days on the run & that he's dying of thirst. The brew was in my hand & 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. Had no 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 & this is what he said...