'ma get to clappin' He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the captain And there I go traped in the kit, kat again Back through the system with the riff, raff again Fiends on
's two bare feet on the dashboard Young love in an old Ford Cheap shades and a tattoo And a Yoo-hoo bottle on the floorboard Perfect song on the radio
when me an' the boys Wanna play some love with them human toys We wind 'em up n' let 'em go Whoa! oh yeah, whoa yeah, woo Summer nights and my radio
on I'll leave the light on Don't you dream on, dream on, dream on, dream on Don't you dream on, dream on, dream on, dream on
I volunteered for the signals section To work the radios was a skivers joy and on manoeuvres IA'd twist the orders and put confusion on the soldier boys
I brought that genuine shit in '96 Before you knew the underground or independent existed I watched the whole scene straight jump on the dick After stepping
I be doin' cameos Shit be wild hot like tabasco Fuck the fool-ass nigga trespass and caught him in my last zone Stick a nigga bad like the last hole Runnin' up on
on trees. [chorus] [SPIKE-E] Blazin's back ,yo step on this track it's so dark it's black TNT explosive squad are back and we're goin' on dirty. Dirty
be doin' cameos Shit be Wild Hot like Tabasco Fuck the fool-ass nigga trespass and caught him in my last zone Stick a nigga bad like the last hole Runnin' up on
Forty men in a paper boat No plan to hand just tearing a hole To get the water out Got together on a phone-in show Oh how we love that talk radio No one
get to clappin' and He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the Captain And there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again Back through the system with the riff-raff again Fiends on
(verse) my popularitys on the ri-ise.my self-image is somewhat sinking my heads expanding in size but my stomachs shrinking it all evens out in the end
Just what was on my mind that night 'cause it feels like you, feels like I, feels like we do What's on your mind? Eyes-Radio-Lies Slipping past
doin' cameos Shit be Wild Hot like Tabasco Fuck the fool-ass nigga trespass and caught him in my last zone Stick a nigga bad like the last hole Runnin' up on
city, nyc pretty mean when it wants to be black leather, knee hole pants can't play no high school dance fuzztone hear 'em go hear 'em on the radio
hearin' what i said, I gotta hole in my head, my head my head I gotta hole in my head, uh my head my head I gotta hole in my head, uh my head my head,
:] ... and the nights are scandalous Thick like big bread basket sandwiches Choke on that, we smoke on bats And put a hole through the horse on your Polo