Lyrics
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio off!
Hey You! (Yeah you!) Could you do me a favour
And get a pad and some paper and jot the words of this saviour?
You need to turn that radio right off (right off)
Right off (right off) right off (right off)
Why?
Well son, I’ll tell ya boy; the media, they’ll tell ya boy
That «Superman"'s a good song when it’s really killin' culture boy
The guys that dance don’t rap, 'cause rappers they don’t dance
They know how to produce a hit, same formula in every track
And that’s not art, that’s wrong, same ol' shit in every song
Zombies like to sing along. Yo, let’s be strong, and bring it on And put an end to the cut and paste, lyrically wasting space
Stop putting money in their pockets and just punch them in the fucking face!
But shh, I got a secret, they’re all just playing tough
Gangstas died out years back, these new kids homeslice they’re all talk
They do it for the paper bill, and to get a grill, and make a mill
So fake they don’t know who they are, they don’t know how to keep it real
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio off!
So let me ask you, did ya hear what I said?
Of course you did, baby, I’m all engrained in your head
So listen up, pay attention, gonna start a revolution
They’ve over stayed their welcome, Beefy’s got the solution
Push em out your mind, out your heart, or over a cliff
Yo, if grunge rock had to die, I say that pop hop is next
'Cause they don’t bring nothing to the table not already there
That shit’s been played since I was a young 'un gripping a teddy bear
So while they holla «Paper paper, dolla dolla bills yall!
I’m straight from the block, y’all, reaching for my steel, y’all!»
I’ll get competitive, a nerdy representative
They’re rapping for the ducats, I’m just rapping for the hell of it
«Woop Woop!» «Yeah Yeah!» Those are not lyrics
You’re raping the spirits of dead MCs who use to feel it And they would grip the mic and tell us stories, it was real from them
All ya do is steal from them, ya might as well be paying them
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio off, turn the radio off
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio
Turn the radio off!