paroles de chanson Shadrach (Peanut Butter Wolf remix) - Beastie Boys
Riddle
me
this
my
brother,
can
you
handle
it?
Your
style
to
my
style,
you
can′t
hold
a
candle
to
it
Equinox
symmetry
and
the
balance
is
right
Smokin'
and
drinkin′
on
a
Tuesday
night
It's
not
how
you
play
the
game,
it's
how
you
win
it
I
cheat
and
steal
and
sin
and
I′m
a
cynic
For
those
about
to
rock
we
salute
you
The
dirty
thoughts
for
dirty
minds
we
contribute
to
I
once
was
lost
but
now
I′m
found
The
music
washes
over
and
you're
one
with
the
sound
Well,
who
shall
inherit
the
earth?
The
meek
shall
And
yo,
I
think
I′m
starting
to
peak
now,
Al
And
then
the
man
upstairs,
well
I
hope
that
he
cares
If
I
had
a
penny
for
my
thoughts
I'd
be
a
millionaire
We′re
just
three
MC's
and
we′re
on
the
go
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Only
twenty
four
hours
in
a
day
Only
twelve
notes
well
a
man
can
play
Music
for
all,
and
not
just
one
people
And
now
we're
gonna
bust
with
the
Putney
Swope
sequel
More
Adidas
sneakers
that
a
plumber's
got
pliers
Got
more
suitst
than
Jacoby
and
Meyers
If
not
for
my
vices
and
my
bugged
out
desires
My
year
would
be
good
just
like
Goodyear′s
tires
So
I′m
out
pickin'
pockets
at
the
atlantic
antic
And
nobody
wants
to
hear
you
′cause
your
rhymes
are
damn
frantic
I
mix
business
with
pleasure
way
too
much
You
know
wine,
and
women,
and
song,
and
such
I
don't
get
blue,
I
gotta
mean
red
streak
You
don′t
pay
the
band,
your
friends,
yo
that's
weak
Get
even
like
Steven
like
pulling
a
Rambo
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Steal
from
the
rich
and
I′m
out
robbing
banks
Giving
to
the
poor
and
I
always
give
thanks
Becuase
I
got
more
stories
that
JD's
got
Salinger
I
hold
the
title
and
you
are
the
challenger
I've
got
money
like
Charles
Dickens
I′ve
got
the
girlies
in
the
coup
like
the
Colonel′s
got
the
chickens
And
I
always
go
out
dapper
like
the
Harry
S.
Truman
I'm
madder
than
Mad′s
Alfred
E.
Neuman
{I'm
never
gonna
let
them
say
that
I
don′t
love
you}
Well,
my
noggin
is
hoggin'
all
kinds
of
thoughts
And
Adam′s
yoggin
is
Yauch
and
he's
rockin
of
course
Smoke
the
holy
chalice,
got
my
own
religion
Rally
round
the
stage
and
check
the
funky
dope
musicians
Like
Jerry
Lee
Swaggert
or
Jerry
Lee
Falwell
You
like
Mario
Andretti
'cause
he
always
drives
his
car
well
Vicious
circle
of
reality
since
the
day
you
were
born
And
we
love
the
hot
butter,
on
what?
The
popcorn
Sippin
on
wine
and
mackin′
Rockin
on
the
stage
with
all
the
hands
clappin′
Ride
the
wave
of
fate,
it
don't
ride
me
holmes
{Being
very
proud
of
being
MCs}
And
the
man
upstairs
I
hope
that
he
cares
If
I
had
a
penny
for
my
thoughts
I′d
be
a
millionaire
Amps
and
crossovers,
under
my
rear
hood
Becuase
the
bass
is
bumpin
from
the
back
of
my
Fleetwood
They
tell
us
what
to
do?
Hell
no
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
Shadrach,
Mesach,
Abednago
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