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

Transhypnotic, robotic, can't stop it
No limits to this style and you know you can't lock it
First you mock it, rock it and then you stock it
I've got the styles that are always in the pocket

Well, like a bird floatin' 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, boomerangin' on back

Well, I'm the king of Boggle, there is none higher
I get eleven points off the word 'quagmire'
Fools can't see me, that's how it is
And that's how I like it and that's my biz

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

Time's an illusion as the moments race by
Too fast to really grasp, though we may try
Deny, 'til we die, ooh my-my
These thoughts that mislead and then multiply

Well, second by second and minute by minute
It's like lotto, you have to 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 Lego set
One equals one together like a croquette
Whether we have or have not yet met
Well, it ain't no thing and it ain't no sweat

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

Non-stop hip-hop, non-stop hip-hop
Non-stop hip-hop, non-stop hip-hop

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 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 spreadin' like a rash
I might stick around or I might be a fad
But I won't sell my songs for no TV ad

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