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at your funeral,
There's not a thing you don't expect,
All by your lonesome, watching
Bottles on the wall, broken down
By morning, pouring through the door
Too much hatred in the heartland, too much talking over me.
Look around and listen, I don't exist without you in my life.

I'm having a good time by
bloods a flood
Without credit
Black and close to the edit
I fed it, you read it, just remember who said it
War at 33 1/3 not really live
I rather do
the radio handle the truth? Nope
Uncut, no edits, no censors
You can get a plastic rapper from any old dispenser
A penny a yard, to make a record ain't
survive without my radio
Terrorising my neighbours with the heavy bass
I keep the suckas in fear by the look on my face
My radio's bad from the Boulevard
a sit-down
Forget the studio and the mixdown
It's time to set it, you talkin loud without the credit
You clean like a radio edit
You couldn't tell that
One, two, look at you
Three, four, she locked the door
I keep knockin' and knockin' and knockin' and knockin'

She was born in Paris
At the age of 21
by the store
Romeo starts his engine
And wipes the blood of the door
And he brodys through the signal
With the radio full blast
Leavin' the boys
Pack your bags and your radio
You don't live here anymore
Take your time as you walk out that door
I don't cry us any long
It don't matter what
So here's a quick list of things you gon need to do
GET THE FUCK OUT!
Don't grab shit, just hit the door
GET THE FUCK OUT!
Don't even mind the blood
The warden said he'd mail my letter
The chaplain's waitin' by the door
Tonight we'll cross the yard together
Then they can't hurt me anymore.

I
so wide awake
And when that board creaks in the hallway, I can see my mind about to break
Lying here without you the silence is so loud that I can't
It's a little bit lonely down here 
It's a little bit faint without you near 
Without you near 

It's a little bit lonely down here 
It's
It's a little bit lonely down here 
It's a little bit faint without you near 
Without you near 

It's a little bit lonely down here 
It's
the door: a guided tour; what we came here for
One: don't let the sun go down on
Two: love, but are undone by
Three: whose name is...
I won't even start
to dude
I'm grown man business, and I am not in school
Put your hand down youngin' this is not for you
On my +J.O.+ with beats by Kan-ye yo
My name
Would you believe that?
If you believe that?
TV killed the radio
TV killed the radio

Let’s get it, what if they told you this music was bogus?
without my radio

Suckers on my jock when I walk down the block
I really don't care if you're jealous or not
'Cause I make the songs, you sing along
For gunnin' down my brother
Leavin' him like a dog
Beneath a car without his knife"

Romeo says," Hey man, gimme a cigarette"
And they all reach
grounded 'til she's dead 
Well here he comes around the bend 
Slowing down, she's jumping in 
Hey mom, you're daughter's gone 
And there they go again
couldn't survive without my radio
Terrorizing my neighbors with the heavy bass
I keep the suckers in fear by the look on my face
My radio's bad from
a beat that's unique and, yes, I like my head zooming
And in my Continental, you know that shit's booming
With the diamond in the back, suicide doors
a beat that's unique and, yes, I like my head zooming

And in my Continental, you know that shit's booming
With the diamond in the back, suicide doors
sorrow followed by pain
Nothing's changed here without you
I start every day the same

I see your sweet lips softly kiss me goodbye
I taste the salt
really want
Drive out to the boondocks
And park down by the creek
And where it's George Strait
Real late dancing cheek to cheek

Ain't going down
'Til

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