Solomon Childs - The Radio lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Yeah, hit 'em up, hit 'em up Fly way sh** [Chorus: Solomon Childs] Tired of hearin' wack brothas on the radio, and wack brothas on the stereo Hearin' the same kinda scenarios, seein' the same kinda video Be ya own man, whether click, crew or band Wack brothas on the radio, wack brothas on the stereo Hearin' the same kinda scenarios, seein' the same kinda video Be ya own man, whether click, crew or band [Solomon Childs] Babylon city, Galvatron, nitty Magnified glory, West Brighton crime story Hydro wit red bones, n***as had me confused Like they was thugged out, but they was bugged out Through the knowledge to the God talk, wilin' and flash the southpaw Realer than Shaolin Supreme Court is a war Pillagin' the Grant sisters, my crooked system, universal audio Evil that men do, slash Dominican Hindu Solo cut, bent up, all up in the club, bent up Rugged four door Cadillac style, left hand, and snow on the bracelet Twin quarters in the bugaboo bubble, paradox where it's all struggle Underrated like catfish, Body Brighton God body style Live, '86 - 2, Tone, me and Cappadonna takin' broads home k**a Bee Network, my power imperial expert Minimum scarred to snap, 24 hour cuffed and craft From a range of rap, when ya know... [Chorus] [Solomon Childs] I prefer to see ya ma**acre ... golden era Universal masters, spit flows colder than Nebraska You got me madder then Meth, so I'mma wet somethin' Never regret nothin', styles be runnin' rampant like a marathon Soldiers in war like Babylon, supreme Capricorn Hittin' like I was Megatron, n***as gettin' k**ed for they rap upon I want thugs for a while to rap along Underground mentality, blowin' holes through ya faculty Lyrics'll spray rapidly, you small figures couldn't carry me Runnin' around talkin' "you some veterans" You gettin' bumped from prime time like David Letterman Better start frontin', in time, I ran through better men Solomon got ya tremblin', wit k**a Beez sightin' from New York to Florida You and ya team up north rockin' the fake Nautica Playin' the don quarter, now who's a big willie... sh**, I remember Willie for sho though, you ain't the k**er You sort some kinda reporter for this rap court I feel need to show off this law before order It's brick in the border, for manslaughter I see dreams to live my life as an extorter Not cause nothin' to things I thought off Bands be sneakin' in the tunnel wit the quarter That's word to my grandfather's daughter [Chorus] [Outro: Solomon Childs] Shaolin, gorilla music Body Brighton, you heard? For all ya'll wack M.C.'s out there This is my year, my year, huh What, what, what, what