Lyrics:
You can't come from the radio or suburb and
Try to hold these streets down, seen niggaz get beat down
Scarface and Jake, put this out on the map, I got
hip-hop was good
There lived a little boy who was misled
By a little Sha-tan and this is what he said
"Me and you kid we gonna make some cash
Jacking
And a whole lot of show
And with Hank Jr. blaring on the radio
We got us a tank full of gas
And we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
And a whole lot of show
And with Hank Jr. blaring on the radio
We got us a tank full of gas
And we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
would've been, if I had never started this?
God damn
Thank God I started shit
I don't know where I'd be if I was never writing shit?
But this is what I do
from 1992
First one in a series, look out for volume two
No Alternative for me, no more rock for you
So we stop by the store, and we buy a couple more
the radio until his voice told her hello
She knew then that he made it there alright
Then she'd say a little prayer, giving thanks that he was there.
crisis that I'm in
Don't chime in
Front block like a line men
No longer co-sign it
Album two, you'll get what that line meant
Clearing shit up just like my
of the night and guilelessly whispers
'You're good kid, you're gonna make it big'
I'm polite and say 'thank you' though he knows no reality
As to how hard it
his mom was away and
Play little games to help him pass the day
And in the afternoon he'd wheel his chair over there by the CB and
He'd go on the air
Good evening everyone, this is Shinigami
And you're tuned-in to Twilight Radio
Light up a fat bluntski, kick back, relax
And enjoy the sounds
be playin my songs on the radio
Everybody gotta understand
Happiness is not by chance
But by choice
I'd rather get chased
By the cops than the devil
Comme d'habitude, You will thank me later
Béni des dieux comme Conway, j'm'en viens péter des gueules
Ouais, je l'sais qu'j'ai des idées dirts
Viens
Is the cup half empty half full They don't see the shit as same as us
Truck sit gold D's for the og Thanks for game that they gave to us
Been in a bad
the Finish Line
We keep the finish in mind
Break the tape
Walk it off check the time
In the winners Box
Reporter Hawk for their Op
No you didn’t do it by
I was banging his filthy
I knew I'd end up in a ditch
If he caught me riding his
Help me go on the radio
You gotta say the words I can't
You got
the kid he don't let em talk.
Thank the Lord for life when you rich nor when you broke
Didn't learn a lot of shit from school than on the radio(Radio)
Even
I've been sitting in
The back pew humming
A little Bobby D tune
There's a slow train coming
I'm kinda thinking
It's got to be getting near
People
You'd better punch your ticket
And hang on for the ride
You'd better punch your ticket
Cause you're wasting your life
And even though you
know times will get hard
I'll pick up your life just abide by the lord
Or ride by the lord
Abide by the lord
Abide by the lord
You bout to get it from
[Kool Keith]
I got skill you're on my tip now back off
Slack off let me do this and y'all turn the wack off
The radio stereo here we go
and a whole lot of show
And with Hank Junior blaring on the radio
We got a tank full of gas and we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
to splurge on effects and reverb
Once that cue system shit hit them ears your brain's gonna curve
Drop the mister two inch, half inch for any edits
Radio
Hello?
Can you hear me?
It's funny how
They were sleeping on me when I had a dream
Especially them niggas in the hood who thought I'd never
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