| Song | The Greatest Pac-Man Victory In History |
| Artist | Aesop Rock |
| Album | Bazooka Tooth |
| 作词 : Aesop Rock, Bavitz | |
| [Chorus] Get up to get down now | |
| Get up to get down now (like this) | |
| Get up to get down now (like this) | |
| Get up to get down now (alright) | |
| I don't wanna do it anymore | |
| Couldn't do it if | |
| I tried, wouldn't do it if | |
| I wanted it | |
| Hey I don't wanna do it anymore | |
| Couldn't do it if | |
| I tried... [Verse 1] | |
| Okay The moments were subtle but unstolen and guess who owns 'em? | |
| No friendly, non-threatening corporate lackey mucks in the totem. | |
| Lucy was in the sky with diamonds, five dollars to hold 'em. | |
| The summer | |
| Vanik beat | |
| Pac-Man with acid behind his molars. | |
| Little white tab tolerant. | |
| Little white flag waggling. | |
| Inorganic pat on back. trim the panic flat on backer. | |
| Back to back like | |
| Mad Hatter magic rabid mastiff collaborative splatter bachelor fabric fatter with | |
| Cabbage Patch lit. (Dark days) | |
| Ben and Louie- | |
| Louie (Park blaze) | |
| Chemically bent-up but eager to crash for that 1-2-3 repeater. | |
| Good morning, | |
| Vietnam. Whose couch is this, whose house is this, who are you down with bitch? | |
| Sorry dog, | |
| I dreamt the foulest shit. | |
| There was this rabbit's foot talisman drowning out of my arm span. | |
| What's fouler was the other farmhands growing gills and shark fangs. | |
| What's fouler was my torso stripped to ribbons in the marshlands, but | |
| I'm up now. | |
| Let's get this window pain and shut the fuck down. | |
| Down by the river where the litter sits | |
| And lion heart critters smoke dope and act like illiterates | |
| I ran with a brat pack of loose bolts and high social maladjusties | |
| Sacred, numb, and boundless went the saint protocol company. | |
| Well, I was dummy to some when my tongue was cradled and my skin looks crazy | |
| Pocketbook mirror, courtesy | |
| Amy There's spiders in the mattress, | |
| Paisley sunglasses, dialated eyes green | |
| Ice grill that could burn through your picture-in-picture widescreen | |
| Poison late late show starring | |
| Aes and his jigsaw face | |
| Twelve hour solid gold entertainment | |
| Utter shit to self from mothership to stealth | |
| ADD patient. (Space Invader) | |
| This one's for the labor days worked for rent and rolling papers | |
| Only the illest beats leak absurdly out the boombox | |
| The day-tripper anthem goes: "Wake. Drop. Walk to Aquarium." | |
| Whistle while you work like a canary lung | |
| All work and no play makes | |
| Jack a dull boy that carried drugs | |
| I sorta see it as my last blast summer | |
| Skateboards and sloppy psychedelics in big numbers | |
| Good times, good people | |
| All airbrushed on a collapsible easel | |
| Peace man, easy [Bridge] | |
| And I knew the permanency would drift | |
| And I knew the ph balance wasn't right | |
| And I knew the crash and burn had to caress it | |
| LSD, flash the message | |
| And I knew the gash wasn't gonna stop bleeding | |
| And I knew the ph balance wasn't right | |
| And I knew how | |
| September would then affect it | |
| LSD... [Verse 2] | |
| Lazy summer days | |
| Like some decrepit land shark dumb luck squad dog lurk sicker diluted. | |
| Last sturdy domino lean secluded. | |
| Don't let stupid delusions lessen super-duty labor students dragnet lifer solutions. | |
| Daddy loved sloppy dimension like son/daughter link. | |
| Such determinated leopards. | |
| Successfully disheveled. | |
| Little soldiers developed like serpents despite life sentence ducking lemmings. | |
| Some don't like sobriety's dirty lenses. | |
| Some do. Let sleeping dogs lie still. | |
| Don't look so damn lackluster. | |
| Suck defeat. | |
| Lump sum damage? | |
| Load, sample, delete. | |
| Late Show, | |
| Dave Letterman, shitty diner lip slide, dutch. | |
| Low self-discipline leaders see dead lung self-destruct. | |
| Life sucks dickhead. | |
| Lost summers display laminates showcasing divinity live, system definitive. | |
| Liturgy soaked, depict lowly spectacular delight. | |
| Why, what kind of | |
| LSD you like? | |
| Your lizard king has spoken (all hail) | |
| You in the back get 'em up. | |
| Those trails aren't necessarily bunk. (Summertime) | |
| Some'll try to recapture the same flag but | |
| I played it smart and recognized the summertime past. [Chorus] |
| zuò cí : Aesop Rock, Bavitz | |
| Chorus Get up to get down now | |
| Get up to get down now like this | |
| Get up to get down now like this | |
| Get up to get down now alright | |
| I don' t wanna do it anymore | |
| Couldn' t do it if | |
| I tried, wouldn' t do it if | |
| I wanted it | |
| Hey I don' t wanna do it anymore | |
| Couldn' t do it if | |
| I tried... Verse 1 | |
| Okay The moments were subtle but unstolen and guess who owns ' em? | |
| No friendly, nonthreatening corporate lackey mucks in the totem. | |
| Lucy was in the sky with diamonds, five dollars to hold ' em. | |
| The summer | |
| Vanik beat | |
| PacMan with acid behind his molars. | |
| Little white tab tolerant. | |
| Little white flag waggling. | |
| Inorganic pat on back. trim the panic flat on backer. | |
| Back to back like | |
| Mad Hatter magic rabid mastiff collaborative splatter bachelor fabric fatter with | |
| Cabbage Patch lit. Dark days | |
| Ben and Louie | |
| Louie Park blaze | |
| Chemically bentup but eager to crash for that 123 repeater. | |
| Good morning, | |
| Vietnam. Whose couch is this, whose house is this, who are you down with bitch? | |
| Sorry dog, | |
| I dreamt the foulest shit. | |
| There was this rabbit' s foot talisman drowning out of my arm span. | |
| What' s fouler was the other farmhands growing gills and shark fangs. | |
| What' s fouler was my torso stripped to ribbons in the marshlands, but | |
| I' m up now. | |
| Let' s get this window pain and shut the fuck down. | |
| Down by the river where the litter sits | |
| And lion heart critters smoke dope and act like illiterates | |
| I ran with a brat pack of loose bolts and high social maladjusties | |
| Sacred, numb, and boundless went the saint protocol company. | |
| Well, I was dummy to some when my tongue was cradled and my skin looks crazy | |
| Pocketbook mirror, courtesy | |
| Amy There' s spiders in the mattress, | |
| Paisley sunglasses, dialated eyes green | |
| Ice grill that could burn through your pictureinpicture widescreen | |
| Poison late late show starring | |
| Aes and his jigsaw face | |
| Twelve hour solid gold entertainment | |
| Utter shit to self from mothership to stealth | |
| ADD patient. Space Invader | |
| This one' s for the labor days worked for rent and rolling papers | |
| Only the illest beats leak absurdly out the boombox | |
| The daytripper anthem goes: " Wake. Drop. Walk to Aquarium." | |
| Whistle while you work like a canary lung | |
| All work and no play makes | |
| Jack a dull boy that carried drugs | |
| I sorta see it as my last blast summer | |
| Skateboards and sloppy psychedelics in big numbers | |
| Good times, good people | |
| All airbrushed on a collapsible easel | |
| Peace man, easy Bridge | |
| And I knew the permanency would drift | |
| And I knew the ph balance wasn' t right | |
| And I knew the crash and burn had to caress it | |
| LSD, flash the message | |
| And I knew the gash wasn' t gonna stop bleeding | |
| And I knew the ph balance wasn' t right | |
| And I knew how | |
| September would then affect it | |
| LSD... Verse 2 | |
| Lazy summer days | |
| Like some decrepit land shark dumb luck squad dog lurk sicker diluted. | |
| Last sturdy domino lean secluded. | |
| Don' t let stupid delusions lessen superduty labor students dragnet lifer solutions. | |
| Daddy loved sloppy dimension like son daughter link. | |
| Such determinated leopards. | |
| Successfully disheveled. | |
| Little soldiers developed like serpents despite life sentence ducking lemmings. | |
| Some don' t like sobriety' s dirty lenses. | |
| Some do. Let sleeping dogs lie still. | |
| Don' t look so damn lackluster. | |
| Suck defeat. | |
| Lump sum damage? | |
| Load, sample, delete. | |
| Late Show, | |
| Dave Letterman, shitty diner lip slide, dutch. | |
| Low selfdiscipline leaders see dead lung selfdestruct. | |
| Life sucks dickhead. | |
| Lost summers display laminates showcasing divinity live, system definitive. | |
| Liturgy soaked, depict lowly spectacular delight. | |
| Why, what kind of | |
| LSD you like? | |
| Your lizard king has spoken all hail | |
| You in the back get ' em up. | |
| Those trails aren' t necessarily bunk. Summertime | |
| Some' ll try to recapture the same flag but | |
| I played it smart and recognized the summertime past. Chorus |