Lyrics Boombox - Blueprint

Boombox

«You are distubring me!
You are disturbing my customers!
No service till you turn that shit off!
I can’t even hear myself think!»
The smooth criminal on beat breaks
Never put my in your box if your shit eats tapes (*2X*)
I got a Panasonic with a set of 15's
Black with the silver grill, shining, lookin clean
Glove on my right hand, face on lean
I keep it by my side like Radio Raheem
Ghetto blastin', you know the sound
Everywhere I go I get asked to turn it down
I’ll tell you hell no to your face, I ain’t a coward
And if you keep trippin' I’m a turn it up LOUDER
I don’t give a damn about your quiet or your peace
The only time I turn it down is when I see police
The last thing I need is being sweated by the beats
Trying to throw me in the hole and take away my beats
Me hear nothing but the music, I’m slipping
So fuck hip-hop, I’m easy listening
Me hear nothing but the music, I’m tripping
So fuck hip-hop, I’m easy listening
You thought it was gunshots, the way my boombox knocks
Before you see me, you hear me coming down the block
Loud enough to make your eardrums pop
But it won’t stop, it don’t stop (*2X*)
Some cats decorated theirs with hand styles and stickers
I decorated my piece with Polaroid pictures
Extra bass boost so you know I ain’t frontin'
Tinted deck with a missing pause button
A pocketfull of tapes from the latest mix shows
With one in the deck cause the door won’t close
I might get it fixed when I get some cheddar
Auto-reverse, one side sounds better
My pulse meter pulsates when I play my jams
My equalizer got 32 bands
This cat try to battle, he didn’t know me
I drowned him out with my tapes on Dolby
Plus, I only had the volume on 5
God forbid, he really woulda tried to get live
Me hear nothing but the music, I’m slippin
So fuck hip-hop, I’m easy listening
Some cat bought the same model and thought he was equal
But he lost the battle cause he couldn’t freak the EQ’s
He shoulda known better than to battle me
He dug his own ditch with them Ray-O-Vac batteries
Now he mad as hell
I told him not to come back unless he had some Duracell’s
My boombox: fully equipped
With a microphone jack whenever cats want to spit
Where ever I’m at, the B-boys follow
My box turns bus stops into the Apollo
I give you 15 minutes of fame
And had a downtown sidewalks looking like Soul Train
Me hear nothing but the music, I’m slipping
So fuck hip-hop, I’m easy listening
Me hear nothing but the music, I’m tripping
So fuck hip-hop, I’m easy listening
«You come to Sal’s, there’s no music
No rap, no music, no music, no music
Capice?
Understand?»