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Beefy
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Turn Your Radio Off
Hey You! (Yeah you!) Could you do me a favor
And get a pad and some paper and jot the words of this savior
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
These dudes that dance don't rap
Cause rappers they don't dance
They know how to produce a hit
Same formula in every track
That's not art that's just wrong
Same ol shit in every song
But zombies they just sing along, yo let's be strong, and bring it on
And put an end to the cut and paste
The lyrically waste of 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
Real gangstas died out years back, these new kids homeslice they're all talk
They do it for the paper bill, to get a grill, and make a mill
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So fake they don't know who they are, they don't know how to keep it real
So let me ask you, did ya hear what I said?
Of course you did baby I'm all engrained in you 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 would say that pop hop is next
Cause they don't bring nothing to the table not already there
That shits been played since I was a youngin gripping on a teddy bear
So while they holla “paper paper, dolla bills yall”
“I'm stright from the block yall, reaching for my steel yall”
I'll get competitive, a nerdy representative
They're rapping for the pride and I'm just rapping for the hell of it
Woop Woop! Yeah Yeah! Those are not lyrics
You are raping the spirits of the dead MCs who would feel it
And they would grip the mic and tell us all their stories and it was real from them
All ya do is leech from them, ya might as well be paying them
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