Lyrics:
Junk food, radio, all the news and nowhere to go
TV guide and the late late show i stayed late, i didn't know
Hold on you got me coming like
atmosphere will set you free cause its my elevation
Rock and roll and punk and funk (its my elevation)
I'm bout to bury that bullshit radio junk (not quite my
and roll and punk and funk (its my elevation)
I'm bout to bury that bullshit radio junk (not quite my elevation)
Spread your wings now come with me (its my
what they don't even have everybody wanna blow
Dey don fill up the radio with junks and trash
Grown up women and men acting like their brain crashed
today
Try to fake the funk, it couldn't shake a rump
But the radio played the junk anyway
But the song wouldn't budge
Now against the ex-label
it (to it).
Turn on the radio.
Play slow jams. Junk in the trunk.
Got 'em saying damn.
Put your ride in my cam.
Rev me up. Like I know you can.
Oh oh
you can be
Word, censorship of reality
Radio suckers never play me
Radio suckers never play me
Radio suckers never play me
Suckers don't, but
I heard some muzak on the radio
They play it every hour
I hear that garbage on the radio
And I sing it in the shower
Keep the junk in America
I does what I does, do what I do
Your hustle the same to me, here's something new
We tired of that junk that you sing in the booth
You know we
up club quick at the function
Fuckin up my budget cuz we dumb rich
Know you need a front but in conjunction
That is not this this is. that Junk
I Heard
(Wheels) All I know is runnin' windy roads
Fog all on my windshield
Smack that dash to play the radio
(Wheels) Met my first love in a Chevrolet
in the gutter and walk on by
Wake up, little Suzie, let's go for a drive
Cross the Trinity River, let's keep hope alive
Turn the radio on, don't
on the radio
(Nothing!)
Matchbox 20, Once was plenty.
I'm tired of this junk giving me a headache.
Nothing Good on the Radio.
(Nothing!)
No there's
the junks in the backyard
Rusty and can never be used
Gonna bring the comfy pillow
So I'll never miss my mom
Pre-chorus 1
Then I drive myself to the Radio
the poor
You're a dad three times over and you're only twenty-four
The Christians on the radio, they act like you're scum
Self-righteous condescending
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen
You are now tuned in to C.A.P. Radio
That's Conscious Addict Pimpin', baby
Givin' you lyrical eargasms, orgasms,
Read junk mail
Eat junk food
Watch trash TV for the sports
I'm a vacuum
I'm a hi-tech low-life after all
Life's been pre-washed
Pre-cooked,
understand
Rhyme for rhyme, Five on the low down
Like I said before, got the funk for your trunk
From the junk yard to the boulevard here we come
Ladies,
hundred thousand clicks
I bought it from some old Cherokee on a sad reservation
James Taylor and Stevie Nicks sweet on the radio
Tyres as bald as an eagle I
Let's get out of this
Sun is beating down and the AC is broke
Along with the tail-light and the radio
Complacency creeps in slow
Before you know we're
proud
And I wouldn't even hear 'em cause my radio's loud
Suckers to the side, I know you hate my '98
(You're gonna get yours!)
Suckers to the side,
and I can't sleep
The waves excite me
Those nocturnal emissions
Of data and junk
Are keeping me awake
Waves, waves, waves
Radio, TV, wifi
Waves pass
far but I'm still here
With all the memories ringing in my ear
Car radio
I'm out of shape and way out of tune
With the back dash full of junk
All
Girl we can crack it open
Keep it smokin
Got us showing
Sweet emotion
You can be the star of the show
Just don't touch my radio
Night is moving fast
.jpg/300px-Infest_2014_Bands_Rabbit_Junk_(15032495251).jpg "Rabbit Junk")
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