Putting Shame In Your Game Lyrics

Beastie Boys - Putting Shame In Your Game Lyrics

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Putting Shame In Your Game Lyrics

Chorus:

Beatsie Beatsie Beatsie Beatsie Boys gettin live on the spot

Puttin all kinds of shame in the game you got

We keep the party movin to the broad day light

G-E-T-L-I-V-E alright



Trans-hypnotic robotic can't stop it

No limits to this style you know you can't lock it

First you mock it, rock it and then you stock it

But I've got the styles that are always in the pocket

Like a bird floating down on a New York breeze 

Every thought in the mind is a planted seed

So watch the mind or the thoughts will stack

Before you know it they're boomeranging on back

Well I'm the king of Boogle there is none higher

I get eleven points off the word 'quagmire'

Fools can't see me and that's how it is

And that's how I like it and that's my biz



Chorus



Time's an illusion as the moments race by

Too fast to really grasp though we may try

Deny, till we die, ooh my my

These thoughts that mislead and then multiply

Second by second and minute by minute

"It's like lotto you gotta be" "in it to win it"

Shakin mind breakin on their own demise

Lies tax to the max and they'll be feelin those vibes

So tell me what you need that you have got

Fiending on power will make your blood clot

It starts with the greed and then goes all wrong

That's why we can't all just get along

We're all connected like a Leggo set

One equaling one together like a croquette

Whether we have or have not yet met

It ain't no thing and it ain't no sweat



Chorus

[Scratching "Non...stop...hip...hop] (x4)



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 and come fake

Don't come with the rhymes that you just half baked

Well I'm the Benihana chef on the SP12

I chop 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 jumped outside the house with my Walkman on

I get so hyped when I hear this song

It's gonna keep me happy like all day long

So go and talk shit cause it just makes me strong

Don't grease my palms with your filthy cash

Multinationals spreading like a rash

I might stick around or I might be a fad

But I won't sell my songs for no TV ad 



Chorus

[Scratching "Can't get enough of that funk"]

"Junior..."