Public Enemy Lyrics
"How To Kill A Radio Consultant"

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