On The Radio

Back when dj's still could play what they wanted

Us lil' tikes didn't care how hard you stunted

All we wanted was to hear that fresh shit BLAST

Hit pause on the tape deck if it was trash

Cuz' our mixtapes were tapes not playlists

And we made em' in real time so makeshift

Wait for the station and grab my tapes

Got my trigger finger ready for the top 8 at 8

Now how the fuck is this LITTLE GUY/pants still REALLY HIGH

Listening to let me ride by doctor dre

Well I'll tell you, I went and stole my sisters tapes

And they had the tipper sticker so they cursed away

And ms gore and dol-ores TUCKA please listen up

Intentions were good but man you still fucked up

You can't touch up an artform like ours

And you made lil' e-dub want to spit bars go hard

On that jambox, turn that jam up

That's me motherfucka so just put your hands up

And toast those jazzers, we are not average

We can make magic, we are young mavericks

We can watch labyrinth debate david bowie

And talk about how the song in the movie is a poem

- and this is poetry, and we roll with these

Punches, and minutes and days until its over WE

Won't stop until the last breath

And this music keeps us human till death

A four chord progression so def

That a tear slips out your eye and your left

Breathless, relentless unkempt but you feel so free

Those words were unsaid

Emails were unsent and for 3 good minutes you ditched that regret