My radio, it doesn't work It's been shot up The wires are burned Someone yanked it just a little too hard My radio, it doesn't work It's been shot up
Tradução: Pavimento. Mi radio.
talk shit about us but that shit is foul when I'm tryna feed my son and drop multi-platinum albums Make my mother proud that her son made it out But
the sound The pen and paper plays my savior while I'm getting down Pray for my nieghbors as a favor for holding me down Slave for my papers as I savor
window tryin to see her I've been stripping the days off the sidewark and pavement the walls are all white and we're painting them whiter for the zig zag manline my radio
dead I smell the pavement At the end there's a light And so pretty women Though I couldn't see I'm not blind and inside my mind Fright night on the radio
they're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, over driven under paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short but Christ I got my lips around a bottle and my
when you play us And watch how they look, and watch they jaw drop to the pavement Nigga [Chorus: DJ Paul] Why yall Test My Gangsta These bitches Test My
rocks for hip-hop Not R&B because to me that's not my style and the R-double-O-quotes ain't for radio, but major soul the ones that's hip won't change
one step ahead But the jiggy was always there Upon the project pavement There was death, enslavement of the mind Single mothers are filled with stress As I lay there with my
We sit and close our eyes Traveling to paradise or to anywhere we like We live a lucky life My home is on the road, the pavement caters to, to my gypsy
my sunshine, I want my sunlight Same old story, over and over Somebody tryin to take knowledge over So I fight back with a native dance Sing my song
the radio, after a play now I jump on the aeroplane, pass though the A since my album came out been starving the game hustle on video, hard shxt again my
shine designed by Christ You about to see dead people without the "Sixth Sense" And yeah, takin food off my mother's table'll get you killed regardless, like my brother's label My
gimmicks of emblem Assemble my ensemble Caught upon the problem Hunger still fierce stomach still grumbles Still pounding the pavement watch concrete
