9th Prince - Banned from the Radio lyrics

[Intro: 9th Prince] Yeah, it's real, right now Alexander the Great.... aiyo [Chorus 2X: 9th Prince] I'm banned from the radio But still, I bust shots through your stereo The hood wanna know, what's the scenario? I'm still hustlin', f**in' with that yae yo, aiyo [9th Prince] Aiyo, Brooklyn b**hes call me Slim, chrome rims Doing a buck 50, getting head from Lil' Kim I was born on Staten Island, where them cops got shot And the block is always hot, Godbodies got it locked Like Fort Knox, we headliners, M-16 designers C.E.O., slash, crime rhymers No matter where you hide, my infered'll find ya Blind ya, get you paranoid like ganja The messenger, rhyme editor, walk like a predator The streets is like a jungle Crawling with scavengers with silencers That'll pop your watermelon, who you telling, what you selling? Yo, nobody, peace to 9th Prince, so stop yelling For God's sake, ya'll n***as is coke heads Amped off of snow flakes, I'm on a paper chase Flee the scene without a trace Dipped down in black, it was me and the Ghostface Army fatigued down, busting rounds at you clowns I'm Kool like Moe Dee, so "how the f** you like me now?" My underground sound that breaks the compound, aiyo [Chorus 2X] [9th Prince] Aiyo, I gave Moses the power, to split the Red Sea By any means, licking cannons at my enemies Army fatigues, ducking behind trees I'm a Prince over seas, my hair is wooly like Jesus with bronze feet True indeed, the way I be rhyming I'mma blow, like the marine bombings Sound the alarming, ain't no telling, what I be harming Supreme magnetic, state of mind, guns I design Wave the nine to ya spine, for dropping dimes Staten Island villains, police taking flicks, I'm moving bricks Making millions, cameras in the buildings The Granddaddy Flow has got a brand new bag The Thief of Baghdad, running with C-hags Your style is played and old school like flattops or shags Opponents lose chances they never had Stapleton outlaws, street pharmacists Shootouts in front of the drug store God bless America, running through red lights Breaking laws, we hardcore, bucking down the jaw And leave 'em spinning on the ground like old school b-boys Breakdancing on the floor, nowaday I speak directly from the heart, sparks from the .357 Light up the dark, running from NARC's We was just kids back then, smoking weed And just rhyming in the parks, aiyo [Chorus 4X]