How To Kill A Radio Consultant Lyrics by Public Enemy

How To Kill A Radio Consultant Lyrics

    Ridenhour - robertz - gary g-wiz - depper

    Pusher of the button
    Talkin' loud ain't sayin' nuttin'
    The mack of the format gettin' fat
    Ain't funny 'cause my neighborhood
    Is flowin' money
    Thank god 4 the boulevard
    They keep the motor runnin'
    The rap shows coincide wit' the tape flow
    Bootleggers go inside and record the record low
    They get me, get this now can you freestyle
    Freestyle no styles free except da radio
    But the radio controlled by the sucker 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 tha neighborhood
    Swear i never seen da sucker
    In my necka da woods
    The ass is connected to the brain stem
    So i sing a simple song
    So you can see the sucker in 'em

    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 dey play the jammy in the daytime
    People think it's slammin' plus the rhyme
    Is hot an got me tunin'
    The afternoon is fm in the pm
    Oh if that they could see 'im
    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 dey even got it from the giddy
    Stacked in the back
    Only black radio station in the city
    Programmed by a sucker 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 dey need is arbitron on the funky jeep
    Too bad it's goin' on in fact my word is bond
    To pull a disappearin' act attack until he gone
    The whacker jam he play they pay i'm in da day
    I don't think we gonna miss 'im we don't need 'im anyway

    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 wit'
    Some def jef or ice t
    Show they rollin' wit' the syndicate
    Or can dey get funky
    Wit' the underground
    Master ace get a taste
    Bomb squad gettin' hard
    Marley mart makin' hipper
    Trax for jack the ripper
    Pumpin' eric b or papa san
    Still rollin' wit' run
    Did you think that ever
    In fact you thought that never
    Control of your soul
    Is by a suit and tie
    Then u wonder why why u never hear a rhyme
    I say we do 'im
    Till it's done

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