Lyrics:
the criticism aside get on a track say what the fuck you wanna say
The radios gonna play whatever the listeners say it should
And I want the listeners say they
broken
Or just getting by
In the orchards 'round their radio
There's a voice there that's giving them hope
He wrote songs out on Coney Isle
That
is making
Its home in your radio
Bless this tiny alley
We have fallen from tall buildings
We have fallen
Bless the birth of him
The chapel he was
like my shit undercova
Cause I'mma Hustla, gettin mine by any means
Don't be supprised, I ain't quiet bout where the green
I like, I need, so that's how
yet.
If you haven't floated down the 'Ol Frio,
Heard Red Dirt music on your radio,
Eaten Cooper's down in Llano,
Then you ain't met My Texas yet.
You
In the seeds we sow by singin' dis tune
Is the cure an the healing, we treat bad feelings 'cause
You feel the pressure when you workin' from nine
No one to talk with
All by myself
No one to walk with
But I'm happy on the shelf
Ain't misbehavin'
I'm savin' my love for you
I know for
By the fire with a glass of wine
The snow is falling and I'm feeling fine
I've got my stocking and the mistletoe
And Santa baby's on the radio
I've
wheels
Every time I heard news of you
And the wound was in every lousy song on the radio
And the pain was like a tree-fern in the dark, damp,
on the radio
whoaa, whoaa
I could take a walk in the days of sun
All by myself I wouldn't need no one
I could learn to live out on my own again
Ya I could
on the radio, and it's disturbing you
Big Moe nigga that's my big dog, and my love ain't never gon withdrawal
So we clicked up coming to get why'all, my nigga
To the East, to down South
It's all big
From the South, to overseas (put your radios up)
Yeah, c'mon
[Verse One]
Knock, knock (who's at the do'?)
It's P.A. baby
you? How 'bout you?
I wonder where you're going to
Flyin' by and out of view
I'll keep looking, how 'bout you?
I love old lights from the radio
Have people come and see me play
Blastin' out on the radio waves
Enough to make my mama cry
'Cause that's where I come from
That's who I am
Hard
to play on the radio?
Who lives the lyrics, all my real niggas already know
Flow for flow, no crew can step to us
And blow for blow, I'm pretty sure that
(B. Walkenhorst)
Who am I, I don't know, I have no idea
When my friends look at me I wonder who they think they're seeing
Search me, layer by layer
Nothing much on the radio
And reality TV kills my soul
You wanna sing at my funeral? Go make arrangements
But you should know by now
Honey, I'm going
Gonna call you up when the sun goes down
When the rain moves out of this seaside town
I've got so many things I wanna show ya
The radio plays
of Champagne, Illinois
It's the crack of dawn I got my radio on
And I pull her off the old interstate
Cause the backroad's calling
I'm in no rush at all
I'm just
make this cream
Member Wavey Joe fuckin up the radio
I took Scouse grime to them niggas and that's all on me
I'm the one they're gonna call on g
U
Now the weight of the world's on my shoulders
I can't take getting older
Yeah, I grew up on UKG
Pirate radio sets, 90s cars, cassettes
Sixteen,
too soon
Move that ass, my nigga move
What up, what up, what up
Wah gwan, wah gwan
What it do, what it do
It's 205 103 blues radio
Shoutout
Radio too loud
Windows down for 90 miles or so
Used to hang around
Parking by the lake like we used to
When there’s nothing left of me
But all
We were the good kids
Spent our summers at the lake
Stole the champagne from the wedding
Snuck the whiskey out the wake
And we found salvation by
Discuss these radio by beyonc Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In