[Verse 1]
Pusher of the bu*ton, talkin' loud ain't saying nothing
The mack of the format getting fat
Ain't funny cause my neighborhood is flowin' money
Thank God for the boulevard, they keep the motor running
The rap shows coincide with the tape flow
Bootleggers go inside and record the record low
They get me, get this now can you freestyle
Freestyle no style's free except the radio
But the radio controlled by the s**er move
Who moved away got away after plannin' a getaway
An now he wanna play what he wanna play
An got say on what is bumpin' of course he's gettin' somethin'
Never know what's good to the neighborhood
Swear I never seen the s**er in my neck of the woods
The a** is connected to the brain stem
So I sing a simple song so you can see the s**er in 'em
[Verse 2]
People got to make a call to hear the yes y'all (yes y'all)
While the phone keep ringin', You hear some singer singin'
Why don't they play the jammy in the daytime
People think it's slammin' plus the rhyme
Is hot and got me tuning
The afternoon is FM in the PM
Oh if that they could see 'em
Out-of-towner not down I think they'll dis him
Up goes the season, pop goes the weasel
Damn gimme rap no band I want some X-Clan
I know they even got it from the giddy
Stacked in the back
Only black radio station in the city
Programmed by a s**er in a suit
Slick back hair he don't even live here
Raps the number one pick so I draft it
I don't care about all the other demographics
When the quiet storm come on I fall sleep
What they need is Arbitron on the funky jeep
Too bad it's going on in fact my word is bond
To pull a disappearing act attack until he gone
The whacker jam he play they pay I'm in the day
I don't think we gonna miss 'em
We don't need 'im anyway
[Verse 3]
Can I kick it? Who the hell is on the radio?
Or who's behind, do you really think they'll mind?
To play the funky jams
That everybody with some Def Jef or Ice T
Show they rolling with the syndicate
Or can they get funky with the underground
Masta Ace get a taste, Bomb Squad getting hard
Marley Marl making hipper tracks for Jack The Ripper
Pumping Eric B or Papa San
Still rolling with Run
Did you think that ever
In fact you thought that never
Control of your soul is by a suit and tie
Then you wonder why why never hear a rhyme
Till I hear some King Sun
I say we do 'em till it's done