Riddle me this, my brother -- can you handle it?
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Your style to my style, you can’t hold a candle to it
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Equinox symmetry and the balance is right
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Smokin' and drinkin' on a Tuesday night
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It’s not how you play the game, it’s how you win it
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I cheat and steal and sin, and I’m a cynic
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For those about to rock, we salute you
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The dirty thoughts for dirty minds we contribute to
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I once was lost, but now I’m found
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The music washes over, and you’re one with the sound
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Well, who shall inherit the earth? |
The meek shall
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And, yo, I think I’m starting to peak now, Al
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And the man upstairs, well, I hope that he cares
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If I had a penny for my thoughts, I’d be a millionaire
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We’re just three emcees, and we’re on the go
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego!
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Only 24 hours in a day, only 12 notes, well, a man can play
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Music for all, but not just one people
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And now we’re gonna bust with the Putney Swope sequel
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More Adidas sneakers than a plumber’s got pliers
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Got more suits than Jacoby & Meyers
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If not for my vices, and my bugged-out desires
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My year would be good just like Goodyear’s tires
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Cause I’m out picking pockets at the Atlantic Antic
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And nobody wants to hear you because your rhymes are damn frantic
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I mix business with pleasure way too much
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You know -- wine and women and song and such
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I don’t get blue -- I got a mean red streak
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You don’t pay the band, your friends, yo, that’s weak
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Get even like Steven like pulling a Rambo
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Well, Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego!
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Steal from the rich, and I’m out robbing banks
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Givin' to the poor, and I always give thanks
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Because I’ve got more stories than J.D.'s got Salinger
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I hold the title, and you are the challenger
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I’ve got money like Charles Dickens
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I’ve got the girlies in the Coupe like the Colonel’s got the chickens
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And I’m always going out dapper like Harry S. Truman
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I’m madder than Mad’s Alfred E. Newman
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(Never gonna let them say that I don’t love you)
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Well, my noggin is hoggin' all kinds of thoughts
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And Adam Yoggin is Yauch, and he’s rockin' of course
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Smoke the holy chalice, got my own religion
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Rally round the stage and check the funky dope musicians
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Like Jerry Lee Swaggart or Jerry Lee Falwell
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You love Mario Andretti cause he always drives his car well
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Vicious circle of reality since the day you were born
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And we love the hot butter on what? |
The popcorn
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Sippin' on wine and mackin'
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Rockin' on the stage with all the hands clappin'
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Ride the wave of fate, it don’t ride me, Homes
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(Being very proud to be an MC)
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And the man upstairs, well, I hope that he cares
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If I had a penny for my thoughts, I’d be a millionaire
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Amps and crossovers under my rear hood
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Because the bass is bumping from the back of my Fleetwood
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They tell us what to do? |
Hell, no!
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego (no)
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Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego |