Lyrics:
but I played it wrong (played it wrong)
Scrap and Bambi, let's make up and get a TV show (get a show)
She don't hit me took me out just like the radio
Someday
Someone found a letter you wrote me
On the radio
And they told the world just how you felt
It must have fallen out of a hole
In your old
of reason
But they don't give you any choice 'cause they think that it's treason
So you had better do as you are told
You better listen to the radio
I wanna
of an early bed
You either shut up or get cut up, they don't wanna hear about it
It's only inches on the reel-to-reel
And the radio is in the hands
a female version of a hustler
Of a hustler
Of a, of a hustler
Stop the track, let me state facts
I told you give me a minute and I'll be right back
a female version of a hustler
Of a hustler
Of a, of a hustler
Stop the track, let me state facts
I told you give me a minute and I'll be right back
're gonna go out a coward
But that's what they all say, you see
Just let me pop Molly, Lucy
Yeah, fuck me up all day, you'll see
Bouta go make it
of reason
But they don't give you any choice
'Cause they think that it's treason
So you had better do as you are told
You better listen to the radio
of reason
But they don't give you any choice
'Cause they think that it's treason
So you had better do as you are told
You better listen to the radio
up, baby
Work me like a radio (oh, oh)
Now turn it up!
Come here
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Give me everything you got
Turn it up, turn it
on an adventure through the making of
The album: Cherry Bomb take a seat
And relax
Yo, what up, it's Tyler
And I'm about to show y'all
What really went down when
I
give a about you. The world doesn't care. See what happens when you go out into the world, see if people will take care of you, then you let me know how
worth all the time that I'm spending on y' all, I'll never switch up my persona
Yo, aye it ain't no question, I'm toxic as fuck, like when you mix bleach
you wrote me
On the radio
And they told the world just how you felt
It must have fallen out of a hole
In your old brown overcoat
They never said
"Damn, Giddy died for this hip-hop"
Or maybe it entail you to get locked
To another 20 in the rock for them to give me my props
Whatever the case may be
when I said
Fuck a critic holdin' me to a quota
You got a title please believe that I'm coming for ya
Your fans gon' sleep, hell yeah they'll be snoring
in my skin and be my clone
What if I just
Start some shit when you on your way back home
What if I just
Call your friends, tell me girl would I be
to state
For requestin my records on the radio great-ly
Appreciate what you've done for me
And my reward to you is my M-U-S-I-C
Straight up, I make
around them hundreds, you know how much that is (tens)
Too much to give me cash, they had to wire me the back end (send it)
Niggas in here lookin' tough,
never told
Bitch you not a boss you Post Malone when he doin' coke
Every pic you post you not alone and ya homies old
Thinkin' you J. Cole? You Keyshia
just because you know
I got it it's because of me that
We're eating right up in this bitch don't
Stretch it by asking for a lawyer
And shit" That's
what a give away. Did you here that, did you here
that, eh? That's what I'm on about -- did you see him repressing
me, you saw it didn't you?
Scene 4
over me
And no, this ain't the clean version
And what you gonna do with all that meat?
Cookin' up a mean servin'
No question, I want it
Fire up
over me
And no, this ain't the clean version
And what you gonna do with all that meat?
Cookin' up a mean servin'
No question, I want it
Fire up
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