How To Kill A Radio Consultant Lyrics - Public Enemy

Pusher of the button talkin' loud ain't sayin' nuttin' 

The mack of the format gettin' fat ain't funny 

'Cause my neighborhood is flowin' money 

Thank God for the boulevard they keep the motor runnin' 

The rap shows coincide wit' the tape flow 

A bootleggers go inside and record the record low 

They get me get this now can you freestyle 

Freestyle no styles free except the radio 

But the radio controlled by the sucker move 

Who moved away got away after plannin' a getaway 

An' now he wanna play what he wanna play 

An' got say on what is bumpin' of course he's gettin' somethin' 

Never know what's good to the neighborhood 

Swear I never seen da sucker in my necka da woods 

The ass is connected to the brain stem so I sing a simple song 

So you can see the sucker in 'em 

People got to make a call to hear the yes y'all 

While the phone keep ringin' you hear some singer singin' 

Why don't they play the jammy in the daytime 

People think it's slammin' plus the rhyme is hot an got me tunin' 

The afternoon is FM in the PM oh if that they could see I'm 

Out-of-towner not down I think they'll dis him 

Up goes the season, pop goes the weasel 

Damn gimme rap no band I want some X-clan 

I know they even got it from the giddy stacked in the back 

Only black radio station in the city programmed by a sucker in a suit 

Slick back hair he don't even live here raps the number one pick 

So I draft it I don't care about all the other demographics 

When the quiet storm come on I fall sleep, what they need is 

Arbitration on the funky jeep too bad it's goin' on in fact my word is bond 

To pull a disappearin' act attack until he gone the whacker jam he play 

They pay I'm in da day I don't think we gonna miss 

I'm we don't need I'm anyway 

Can I kick it? Who the hell is on the radio or who's behind? 

Do you really think they'll mind to play the funky jams 

That everybody wit' some Def Jeff or Ice T 

Show they rollin' wit' the syndicate or can they get funky 

Wit' the underground Master Ace get a taste Bomb Squad gettin' hard 

Marley mart makin' hipper track for Jack The Ripper 

Pumpin' Eric B or Papa San still rollin' wit' run 

Did you think that ever in fact you thought that never control of your soul 

Is by a suit and tie then you wonder why why you never hear a rhyme 

Do I hesitate I say we do I'm till it's done