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 for the boulevard they keep the motor runnin'   The rap shows coincide wit' the tape flow      A bootleggers go inside and record the record low   They get me get this now can you freestyle   Freestyle no styles free except the 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 the 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   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 an got me tunin'   The afternoon is FM in the PM oh if that they could see I'm   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 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 they need is   Arbitration 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   I'm we don't need I'm 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 Jeff or Ice T   Show they rollin' wit' the syndicate or can they get funky   Wit' the underground Master Ace get a taste Bomb Squad gettin' hard      Marley mart makin' hipper track 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 you wonder why why you never hear a rhyme   Do I hesitate I say we do I'm till it's done