At me) On the train, on the train And you were looking at me I was on the train today and I was looking at (I was on the train today) And I was looking
. (At me) On the train, on the train And you were looking at me I was on the train today and I was looking at (I was on the train today) And I was looking
Cause I'm so beastly, turn on the TV What do you see? You see me, on the tv, that's what you see, you see me He's on Television and the radio He's super
nine. Writing some words and some music turn the radio on and just listen get a winner idea and don't lose it 'cause from this moment on I'm insistin' on
his head But he's too scared to complain 'Cos he's conditioned that way Time goes by and he pays off his debts Got a TV set and a radio For seven shillings
' Yo, niggas is not original Niggas follow the radio Niggas think if you blow Then you gotta be on the TV show Crackas is hypocritical Crackas will rob and shit on
, time keeps on slipping) Who's the man? (The Heavster, time keeps on slipping) Who's the man? (The Heavster, time keeps on slipping) Who's the man? (The Heavster, time keeps on
The pope is on the tv The queen is in the news The pin is in the oven Michelle she got the blues The grape is good for picking The train it runs on time
stop the music, nobody can stop the music. Change the master plan, take the hope from man 'cause that's easier to do. On the radio, on every TV show
noise Wailing echoes down the corridors I've got this imaginary radio And I'm punching up the dial I've got the AC trained on the TV So it won't blow
Junk food, radio, all the news and nowhere to go TV guide and the late, late show, I stayed late, I didn't know Hold on, you got me coming like a shot
Woke up this morning on the wrong side of bed I got this feeling like a trains running through my head, yeah Turned on my radio to the same old song Some
all my niggas on the westside To all my niggas on the eastside To all my niggas on the northside To all my niggas on the southside To all my bangers on
Burn train buffers My fancy Up jumps the boogie delivering eye jammies Walk through the muck with a clutch on a trident Never give a fuck how far Pi went
on the move Our radios are tuned To the supermarket groove And lift music Everything is great The trains are never late The TV and the state Keep us on
cellophane We are running from the storms of our youth into more of the same There's a motorway service station on a January day There's a lunchtime radio
