Where It's At (Viewed 331 times)

Lyrics / Letter B / Beck Songs

There's a destination a little up the road
From the habitations and the towns we know
A place we saw the lights turned low
With the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow
Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts
Two turntables and a microphone
Bottles and cans just clap your hands just clap your hands

Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at

Take me home in my elevator bones

Pick yourself up off the side of the road
With your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones
Members only hyponotizers
Move through the womb like ambulance drivers
Shine your shoes with your microphone blues
Here-suits with your parachute fruits
Passing the dutchie from coast to coast
Let the man get loose while I rock the most

Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone

What about those who swing both ways? AC-DC's?

Two turntables and a microphone

Where it's at!
I got two turntables and a microphone

Oh, dear me. Making slaves at Two-horse town
That's beautiful, Dad

Get my microphone

There's a destination a little up the road
From the habitations and the towns we know
A place we saw the lights turn low
With the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow
Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts
Two turntables and a microphone
Bottles and cans just clap your hands just clap your hands

Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
I got plastic on my mind