Public Enemy - How to Kill a Radio Consultant lyrics
[Public Enemy - How to Kill a Radio Consultant lyrics]
Pusher of the button, talkin' loud
Ain't saying nothin'
The mack of the format gettin' fat (yeah)
It ain't funny 'cause my neighborhood
Is low in money (Ugh)
Thank God for the boulevard
They keep the motor runnin' (Hey)
The rap shows coincide with the tape flow
(What) bootleggers go inside and record
The record low (Ugh)
They get me, get this now, can you freestyle?
Freestyle, no style's free except the radio
(Ho)
The radio's controlled by the sucker move
Who moved away got away
After plannin' a getaway
And now he wanna play what he wanna play
And got say on what is bumpin'
Of course he's gettin' somethin'
They never know what's good
To the neighborhood
I swear I never seen the sucker
In my neck in the wood
The ass is connected to the brain stem
A so I sing a simple song so
You can see the sucker in 'em
People go to make a call
To hear the 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 tunin'
The afternoon is FM in the PM
And if only they could see 'em
Out-of-towner not down
I think they'll diss 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 sucker in a suit
A slick back hair
And he don't even live here
Rap's the number one pick, so I draft it
I don't give a damn
About the other demographics
When the quiet storm comes on, I fall sleep
What they need is Arbitron on the funky
Funky jeep too bad it's going 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 the day
I don't think we gonna miss 'em
We don't need 'em 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 with
Some Def Jef or Ice T and
Show they rollin' with the syndicate
Or can they get funky with the underground?
Masta Ace get a taste
Bomb Squad gettin' hard
Marley Marl makin' hipper tracks
For Jack The Ripper
Pumping Eric B or Papa San
And rollin' with Run
Did you think that ever, in fact
You thought that never
Control of your soul is by a suit and tie?
And then you wonder why why you never hear
A rhyme 'til I hear some King Sun
I say we do 'em 'til it's done
Ain't saying nothin'
The mack of the format gettin' fat (yeah)
It ain't funny 'cause my neighborhood
Is low in money (Ugh)
Thank God for the boulevard
They keep the motor runnin' (Hey)
The rap shows coincide with the tape flow
(What) bootleggers go inside and record
The record low (Ugh)
They get me, get this now, can you freestyle?
Freestyle, no style's free except the radio
(Ho)
The radio's controlled by the sucker move
Who moved away got away
After plannin' a getaway
And now he wanna play what he wanna play
And got say on what is bumpin'
Of course he's gettin' somethin'
They never know what's good
To the neighborhood
I swear I never seen the sucker
In my neck in the wood
The ass is connected to the brain stem
A so I sing a simple song so
You can see the sucker in 'em
People go to make a call
To hear the 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 tunin'
The afternoon is FM in the PM
And if only they could see 'em
Out-of-towner not down
I think they'll diss 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 sucker in a suit
A slick back hair
And he don't even live here
Rap's the number one pick, so I draft it
I don't give a damn
About the other demographics
When the quiet storm comes on, I fall sleep
What they need is Arbitron on the funky
Funky jeep too bad it's going 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 the day
I don't think we gonna miss 'em
We don't need 'em 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 with
Some Def Jef or Ice T and
Show they rollin' with the syndicate
Or can they get funky with the underground?
Masta Ace get a taste
Bomb Squad gettin' hard
Marley Marl makin' hipper tracks
For Jack The Ripper
Pumping Eric B or Papa San
And rollin' with Run
Did you think that ever, in fact
You thought that never
Control of your soul is by a suit and tie?
And then you wonder why why you never hear
A rhyme 'til I hear some King Sun
I say we do 'em 'til it's done