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 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 
  
            
 
HATA BİLDİR
 
 
		
        
        
        
         
         
         
         
        
        
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