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Putting Shame In Your Game
Beastie Boys; The Prunes
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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Translation
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The B-C Boys
ย
Beat ya, beat ya, beat ya, Beat ya Boys
Gettin' live on the spot
Puttin' all kinds of shame in the game you got
We keep the party movin' 'til the broad daylight
G-E-T L-I-V-E, aight
Jazz hypnotic, robotic, can't stop it
No limit to the style and you know you can't lock it
First you mock it, rock it, and then you sock it
I got the styles that are always in stock
Well like a poem floatin' down on the New York breeze
Every thought in the mind is a planted seed
So watch the mind and the thoughts will stack
Before you know it, they were rangin' on back
Well I'm the king of boggle, there is none higher
I gets eleven points off the word quagmire
Foes can't see me, that's how it is
And that's how I like it and that's my biz
Beat ya, beat ya, Beat ya Boys
Gettin' live on the spot
Puttin' all kinds of shame in the game you got
We keep the party movin' 'til the broad daylight
G-E-T L-I-V-E, aight
Time's an illusion as the moments race by
Too fast to really grasp so we may try
To deny 'til we die, ooh my my
These thoughts that mislead and they multiply
Well second by second and minute by minute
Like motto, you have to be in it to win it
Shakin' mind, breakin' on their own demise
Last tax, Steve and Max and they be feelin' those vibes
So tell me what you need that you have got
Feigning on power will make your blood clot
It starts with a dream then goes all wrong
That's why we can't all just get along
We're all connected like a Lego set
One equals one together like a croquette
What else we have or have not yet met
Well it ain't no thing and it ain't no sweat
Beat ya, beat ya, Beat ya Boys
Gettin' live on the spot
Puttin' all kinds of shame in the game you got
We keep the party movin' 'til the broad daylight
G-E-T L-I-V-E, aight
ย
Well you're caught in a panic and it's rattled your brain
The selfish ways just can't maintain
But these are the breaks when you try to come fake
Don't come with the rhymes that you just have faked
Well I'm the money hunter chef on the SB-12
Drop the fuck out, the beats left on the shelf
You be like, "Hello Nasty, where you been?"
It's time you brought the grimy beats out the dungeon
I just left the house with my walkman on
I get so hype when I hear this song
It's gonna keep me happy like an all day long
So don't talk shit 'cause it just makes me strong
Well don't grease my palms with your filthy cash
Multinational spreadin' like a rash
I might stick around or I might be a fad
But I won't sell myself with no TV ads
Beat ya, beat ya, Beat ya Boys
Gettin' live on the spot
Puttin' all kinds of shame in the game you got
We keep the party movin' 'til the broad daylight
G-E-T L-I-V-E, aight
ย
You came up with that one, Joe
Oh my goodness
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby
Oh my goodness
ย