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kydd freshh - it's a walkman lyrics
[intro]
yo, ll!
yo, l, yo!
he can’t hear you, what’s this radio?
looks like a walkman
i don’t know about that walkman but he better watch that car
he better watch that car
_scratching “i can’t live without my radio”
[verse 1]
your radio, believe me, sound real loud
and some sound more like a cat’s meow
my name is kydd freshh and i wanna know
what the h_ll is all this fuss about a radio
i know cool j, i used to see him every day
with his dj cut creator, the perfect perpetrator
on farmers boulevard, that’s where they chilled
not a radio in sight, or sounds were ill
it’s sickening to think that an mc like that
would lie about a radio and put it on wax
see, it never really stomped like a savage beast
it didn’t have a power meter so it couldn’t increase
[chorus]
it was a walkman
[verse 2]
i saw krush groove, i know you did too
i wasn’t impressed, it wasn’t alright too
cool j’s radio is on the movie screen
but it was hizzo_dizzi_borrowed like he did with those jeans
i’m sorry if you can’t comprehend
but this radio fantasy must come to an end
i don’t mean to diss, but i must insist
your radio is a myth, it didn’t ever exist
[chorus]
yet you’re talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and your radio was just a walkman
[verse 3]
what radio?, that’s what i said
if you can’t live without it then you should be dead
i’m not as mean as my words convey
but ll cool j’s gotta be this way
you lie, and why, i can’t understand
you said you had a radio inside your hand
you didn’t mean to offend senior citizens
but ll went a_walking with his headphones in
d_mn, that was ill when i first wrote this
i said “homeboy ll is up to his old tricks”
you’re fessing, a radio you never owned
but a panasonic walkman and a pair of headphones
or like it, it’s true, i cannot lie
so don’t deny, just tell me why
[chorus]
you’re talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and your radio was just a walkman
[verse 4]
suckers on your jock when you walk down the block
well, that’s a d_mn lie and you need to stop
you’re like roddy, ’cause no one ever showed you respect
and even your sweatshirt reads me, kydd freshh
i’m sorry i even had to say this again
this radio stuff, kydd freshh will end
wearin’ light blue pumas, a whole lotta gold
but i never knew your gold was so d_mn old
you said a jealous knucklehead might try to diss
well, among the knuckleheads, tell your dj… to bust this!
_scratching_
[verse 5]
don’t touch that dial, you’re overly stressed
you even said you’d rip off someone’s neck
well, would you k!ll someone, lay ’em down in a carpet
over nothing more than a little ass_whopping?
your name is cool j, well, i’m kydd freshh
and when this record’s over, my case will rest
but before i leave, i will achieve
something mortal men cannot conceive
cut creator, you rock the beat with your hand
well, jazzy beater, rock the drum program!
[outro]
yo jazz, tell ’em what we do in philly
we “rock the beat!”
yo jazz, what are you handling, homeboy?
“the beat”
it’s over, you see, we settled the score
you can live without your radio, you’ve did it before
so me and jazzy beater, we will leave it at last
but don’t you dare try to diss us back
’cause i slay mcs, so you better stop talking
especially when your radio was just a walkman
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