| Let the radio speak baby listen to the sound
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| Put your hands up if you reppin' for your town
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| I’m coming from New York but I’m good in every city
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| So go on sing along if you people ridin' with me
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| Let the radio speak
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| If the radio could speak it’d probably say that I’m the baddest
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| I ain’t talkin' about a state I mean the atlas
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| Now my fans call me moonwalk Jackson
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| Cause I be movin' forward even when I’m walking backwards
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| For real, I’m just trynna chill
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| But I got a look that paparazzi wanna steal
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| So you’ll never see my pen jottin' on a deal
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| Unless a label offers me a Maserati and a mil
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| For real, I’m cold as an igloo
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| If you ain’t getting paper man what type of player is you
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| If you got an issue you can bet that I won’t diss you
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| Cause these rappers play with Glocks I play with mo’fuckin' missiles
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| Y’all know
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| I’m shinin' like whoa
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| My timing like fast
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| And your timing like slow
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| I got a thing for ladies that show up when I play my shows
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| Cause I make love to them through all of their radios
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| Let the radio speak baby listen to the sound
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| Put your hands up if you reppin' for your town
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| I’m coming from New York but I’m good in every city
|
| So go on sing along if you people ridin' with me
|
| Let the radio speak baby listen to the sound
|
| Put your hands up if you reppin' for your town
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| I’m coming from New York but I’m good in every city
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| So go on sing along if you people ridin' with me
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| Let the radio speak
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| Can y’all hear it, can y’all hear it
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| Yo the radio’s buzzin'
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| Talkin' about an artist that’s the smartest and y’all love him
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| I serve that food for thought and y’all grub it, I be buggin'
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| Cause my studio’s a kitchen and my booth’s a fuckin' oven
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| But there’s a line, so don’t get out of order
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| I got a couple sharpshooters crowded by the border
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| Now it’s been a while since y’all seen a young New Yorker
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| Whose flow is bigger than rappin' it’s more like bodies of water
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| Yo |