Lyrics:
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All these IOUs, it's hard for me to be keeping track
Friends that dedicated they life to just keeping me intact
Hard to pay 40, pay Noel, pay
a goof
Now I party every day
[Radio Station Transition #1]
That was a good one
(Heeeeee!)
That was a good one
People we’re moving on
We’re moving on qui-
Just want to go back to your place
We went ridin' on them backroads
Tokin' on that good smoke
Radio blastin' "Copperhead Road"
I finish one beer, I have
But i'm not feeling your mix tape brother
I think you made a big mistake brother
You're not hip-hop that's a piss take brother
Yeah, I like your mix
cos we gotta get that pay
We always leave the radio on, but they never play a song that we want played
Every once in a blue moon, we hear a good tune,
this out for every street DJ that ain't getting no real radio airplay
You know I mean
That's coming on the radio at one o'clock in the morning
That
Yeah man, we good to throw down
Got my demo, man
To blow up in this rap game, man
Aw man, ain't that
DJ Superfly over there, man?
He work up
We had a good time
We had ourselves a good ass time
Memories all in my mind drinking wine
When we had a good time
Mix the vibe and the side in my
a microphone, metaphors, words and puns
Sentences and phrases, no clubs or razors
No mercy for a sucker that wages
War, I'll take the floor, even the score
as you can
It'll make you head feel good all inside.
So the Captain says alright
He takes himself three big tokes
Off that funny little brown weed
that be looking so stupid
Getting in the fights at reunions
She used to be inspired by the writers, now she's tired of the biters
No desire for
to say
We have a list of people that we would take
A bullet for them, a bullet for you
A bullet for everybody in this room
But I don't seem to see many
dug Soul Train, not American Bandstand
The bigger nigga is back and I'm on the right track
As a matter of fact, I'm all that
So, ring around
Train, not American Bandstand
The bigger nigga is back and I'm on the right track
As a matter of fact, I'm all that
So ring around the Rosie,
for them
I'd be humming a slave hymn, for him
Blessed to be called by Mack and T-X-T
The city's in good hands
It's easy to sleep
I'm good with
the street from Jerry's Bait shop
You know the place
Well anyway, back then life was going swell and everything was just peachy
Except, of course, for
others
You only hear it when you listen to your mix tape
It does things to your brain takes you back to that day
Like a time machine it's future retro
Go on and say it
Was my love too much for you to take?
I guess you never knew what was good for you
Don't keep me waiting, say the words that you're
Well, the day I was born the doc couldn't believe
I came out cryin' Chattahoochee
Didn't take too long after that
For the hair on my head to grow
else
If I ask you to scratch my back, could you manage that
Like it read well, check it Travie, I can handle that
Furthermore, I apologize for any
to the slutty boys to
You hear that? Uh, hear the Adapt Kings in the back, young Dallas
Two bitches, two bitches, I feel good right now
I just want to talk to my
Burners, ay, shooters, 216
Ratchets, Dirtyramens, also looters in the mix
We got the goods that, always provide it
Every time we be right there,
from the good ole days
Take me back to the days
When we were bumping hank
Rolling down forty eight
Tryna break that radio
Screaming every song
She's
go crazy
Fever's high with the lights down low
Take me over the edge
Make me lose control
Baby, baby
Turn the radio up for that sweet sound
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