Afrika Islam - Radio s**ers lyrics

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Afrika Islam - Radio s**ers lyrics

People, it's time for the Ice crush So listen to my words I bring much Sense, as I commence, my lyrics intense Your telephoto, break out your big lens Look, check out the sales charts My record's kickin', I'm breakin' P.D.'s hearts They banned me from their shows Because they said I'm too hard But no sell-out,I guess I'm just barred I ain't changin' mine for nobody They bleeped words from Doug's LA-DE-DA-DE I can't get a bleep?What's the deal? Maybe my words are just too real It's not profanity, it's just the man & me He doesn't want you to see what I see Doesn't want you to be what you can be Word, censorship of reality Radio s**ers never play me(x3)(sampler of PE "rebel without a pause") s**ers don't,but some do The real troopers bring the ICE to you And close friends to me, yea, PUBLIC ENEMY These stations have high intellect They don't pretend to be,too bourgeois to rock a jam raw Understand what I'm sayin', they're down by law They play the jams that are right, sometimes not polite They realize you gotta get some people uptight Speak the word, your voice will definitely be heard Lie to yourself, you're destined to be to the curb Some stations don't care, they'll never put on the air Nothin' but commercial junk,their brain power's impaired They don't listen or try to hear what I write Maybe just think once, or try some school at night They're makin' radio wack, people have to escape But even if I'm banned, I'll sell a million tapes Radio s**ers never play me (x3) I make records for music, not for the money To some of you that might sound funny But I ain't broke,and I don't joke And my lyrics are known to make ears smoke Clear as a gun scope, I speak the pure dope Can the radio handle the truth?...Nope Uncut, no edits, no censors You can get a plastic rapper from any ol' dispenser A penny a yard, to make a record ain't hard But to make it mean something, that's a job But then we do it, they refuse it So I tell them duck s**ers to cold go screw it We shouldn't sell out,we should just yell out And get them wack motherf**ers the hell out Radio s**ers never play me (x4) Cruisin' down the street what do I see? Crash Task Force, L.A.P.D Gangs illin', wildin' and k**in' Hustlers on a roll, like they got a million Girls on the strap and you know that You know the guys will stop wildin' if you stop that crap But you can't, you want money so bad You'll jock anything with the Gucci tag You gotta have it, so the men go get it Robbin' and stealin', soon to regret it Livin' in a jail cell, feelin' like a dumbbell While you jump the next jock, well That's reality, that's what I see Nobody says that you have to agree Censorship, that ain't the way to be I thought you said this country was free? Radio s**ers never play me (x2) Tone it down is what they say to me The FCC will not allow profanity Your subject matter's too hard, make a love song You better get real,come on I ain't no lover, I'm a fighter Hard core radical rap rhyme writer Pushin' the bu*ton, E does the cuttin' Everything I say amounts to something More than a single rap,I'm too deep for that I lay my lyrics with logic, press the wax Play it on your tape deck, feel the effect If you can't take the heat, eject But I know you can, cause you're an ICE-T fan No sell-outs here, my man Radio....(fade out)