Artist: Beastie Boys Album: Paul's Botique Song: Shadrach Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash {*instrumental for the first 18 seconds*} [Verse One] Riddle me this brother 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! 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 emcees and we're on the go Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego [Verse Two] 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 got pliers Got more suits that Jacoby & 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, and pleasure, way too much You know wine, and women, and song, and such I don't get blue, I gotta mean red streak Don't pay the band, your friends, yo that's weak Get even like Steven like pullin a Rambo Well Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego y'know [Verse Three] Steal from the rich and I'm out robbin banks Give it to the poor and I always give thanks Because I got more stories that J.D.'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 Coupe 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. Newman... ("Never gonna let them say that I don't love you") [Verse Four] Well; my noggin is hoggin all kinds of thoughts Adam 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 Swaggart, or Jerry Lee Falwell Yeah like Mario Andretti cause he always drives his car well Vicious circle of reality since the day we were born And we love the hot butter SAY 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 homes ("Being very proud to be an emcee") And then the man upstairs, well 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 Because the bass is bumpin from the back of my Fleetwood They tell us what to do - hell no! Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego