On The Radio - Blu & Exile

I guess we’re sittin' on the park on this one

You know what I’m sayin'?

You wanna just, uh, bring it back real quick

For my real hip hop fans

That just miss how it used to feel

Before this radio shit

Check it

Yo

I’m looking for a place to chill

For a place to display my skills

For a place to build

To express how I feel inside

For a place to just vibe and rhyme

Kick back and relax

Till my tracks all maxin' rap

Without old folks callin' it crap

It’s my pen and my pad

No (?) shit, politics in it, just spittin' in it

Bust rhythms gettin' love and respect

No checks, no rapping for sex

No crap about a jag or a lex

I’m not having it broke

I want a home where The Roots go platinum

Common is common in households and Mos Def ain’t actin'

Tribe is back together, and Jam Master J stay rockin' his leather

Where the records get more played than CDs please

Ain’t no super scientifical MC’s

You gotta be real, gotta be ill with delivery

No mimicking nobody just writing the tightest symphony

Feeling me dawg?

I wanna stay where the real emcees are

Where the illest beats are, fuck the industry, dawg

Where the backyards are shows, and hoes that just backup singers for pros

And my flows and tracks go together forever

Next to us and so

And four doors down, it’s rock and roll

I wanna go

Feels like hip-hop's lost its soul

Every time I’m on the road

Ain’t no matter where I go

Same shit’s on the radio

See the sea and show the shore

Any place that’s on the go

Ain’t no matter where I go

Same shit’s on the radio

Instead of playing this, they’d rather be playing that

And instead of making hits, they’d rather be making crap

They label it as rap and all they talk about is mix this drink that

Crap in, they crap out

Instead of playing this, they’d rather be playing that

And instead of making hits, they’d rather be making crap

They label it as rap and all they talk about is mix this drink that

Crap in, they crap out

I’m looking for a place to rhyme

For a place to let shit off my mind

Kick back and recline

Write verses about the women I’m feelin'

And I could spit a couple to 'em and they won’t get offended

Shit, I’m looking for a place where I could say what I like

Come out the studio feeling right, from lacing it tight

Take it right to the stage and display it on mics

Repeat it every single day of my life

Just like heaven and me

Picture droppin' music freely

Without checkin' weekly how many people went and got your CD

Without labels being greedy, taking paper from the needy

The grass is even greener than a (?) CD

See we don’t want money

Sip some change a piece

My niggas don’t lose brains to beef

And when I play beats

And when you ask and I say it’s JD

I don’t mean Jermaine Dupri’s

So shame these lames, these things need to gauge the test

And the lakers best play without a rape suspect

Trying to find a place where you ain’t got to take no vest

And a bitch-ass Nelly would never step to KRS

This whole place is a mess

Trying to find a way up out of this

And hip-hop is like my Wizard of Oz, yes

I’m like Dorothy, except my ruby slippers are chrome

Click three times, I’m trying to go home, y’all

I’m trying to go home

Feels like hip-hop's lost its soul

Every time I’m on the road

Ain’t no matter where I go

Same shit’s on the radio

Sea to sea and show to show

Any place that’s on the go

Ain’t no matter where I go

Same shit’s on the radio