| I can’t turn my radar off
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| I can’t turn my radar off
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| Anyone, anything
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| I’ma put it in the box
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| Anyone, anything
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| I’ma put it in the box (x2)
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| I don’t wanna know what day of the week this is
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| Or who’s the weakest link
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| Or what these people think
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| I’m knee deep in beeps and clicks
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| When the radar blips, my experience lives
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| So I know how they fit and I know what to think
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| That’s retro rudeboy kitchen sink
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| That’s left wing, right wing, green or pink
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| Tweed or weed, it beeps and blinks
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| But if I could lose this radar
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| Bust loose from the news, the adman, and all this shit
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| Then maybe
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| When I see dude’s hair and shoes I wouldn’t assume that I knew them
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| Maybe
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| When I heard a tune then I’d listen without hearing all the reviews
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| And maybe
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| I could get to know me, get past the labels and do what I do
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| With that gram coke
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| You ain’t paying for the buzz, you coulda bought ten pills with that cash
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| You’re paying for a parking spot on the radar
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| Ever so edgy, so flash
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| Like a pop star chilling with gangsters in a posh frock
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| Or with a supermodel, wearing fat gold chains and her cool kicks
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| Plus if it’s a vital hit
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| Every box ticked
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| Built with a radar toolkit
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| Oh, who’s this?
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| I like this artist 'cause he wears glasses
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| Tick tock, backpack flash on my screen
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| «Muslim Skateboarding Marxist»
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| When you hear The Beatles or Bob Dylan
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| Can you forget the status and properly listen?
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| Can I ever get past the packaging?
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| Parasite soundbye type blurbalism
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| Color my vision
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| With your new era cap
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| Leather avirex and brrap brrap
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| You’re clear on my radar
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| With your skinny fit jeans
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| Pointy shoes and key chains
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| You’re clear on my radar
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| With your chinos
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| Rosy cheeks and pink pinstripe shirt
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| You’re clear on my radar
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| Don’t know you for shit
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| But I know all of it
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| Know the coordinates instead
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| Don’t know you for shit
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| But I know all of it
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| Know the coordinates instead
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| Just by the color of your skin
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| My radar says what box you’re in
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| So I’ll keep you in that
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| And do you say safe?
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| Nice one
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| Cool
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| Or fabulous
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| 'Cause I say (x2)
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| Fuck that
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| I’m swimming in the trivia
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| Wrapped in maps and plastic
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| New categories and classics
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| And when I look in the mirror
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| I just see the labels
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| Eyes like radars flashing
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| And when I look in the mirror
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| I just see the labels (x2)
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| Eyes stay dead and flashing |