Beastie Boys - Shadrach - peanut butter wolf remix lyrics

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 bu*ter, 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 ba** 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