Youssou N'Dour - No Airplay Lyrics
Get the lyrics to the song: No Airplay by Youssou N'Dour at LyricsKeeper.com.
No Airplay
No Airplay Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For No Airplay By Youssou N'Dour?
Yo the Brooklyn Bridge is gonna collapse why'know?
Yo this Wyclef Jean and the ReFugee All-Stars up in here Yo what's this I hear about the police in Brooklyn? Turn this jam up, yo, yo This the type of jam that be getting no airplay I want the whole world to hear this joint right here, yo This the type of jam that be getting no airplay You asked for it buddy, here it comes One two, watch out for the man in blue Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could Do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin I'm from a land of black bats, alley rats and cats Scratch up my car, set me up for the carjack Under pressure, I gotta leave the gat Two straps, a total of sixteen caps Say something positive? No positivity More positivity, more positivity brutality Thugs get angry, the violence increase You want peace, make Wyclef chief of police Riding through the hood, it's the same ol story It's either you play ball or you drug dealy dealy Standin' on the block when the spot get hot Guaranteed to get set up, by a crooked cop So I'm sittin' back, rhymin' on instrumentals Anything I touch, it turns monumental Me and Jerry Wonder, we keep it credible For the streets, at the same time, we gotta eat When we commercialize it's to enterprise We guarantee to sell a hundred mil before we die But Jerry is broke, that's the situation Nine-seven, it's like no more eviction No more war milk, no more government cheese Police keep on shootin' at our bulletproof Bentley Yo this the type of jam that be getting no airplay The Brooklyn Bridge about to collapse, apocalypse This the type of jam that be getting no airplay The ghettoes are fed up, we got the arms in the air One two, watch out for the man in blue Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could Do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin Yo bust this Forty caliber, seventeen through your character Waterworld's world, underwater, Sub Mariner Derringer, twenty-two one in the challenger Seven, four-eight, 23rd on the calendar My word verses, burst raps you rap nervous It's worthless, you get smashed up, on the surface Projectile, my forty-four style, blood on silver The red ripper, fill up the reservoir nigga Armageddon, you smack dead on, a world crisis The nicest, for sixteen bars, of preciseness One two, watch out for the man in blue Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore Five six, you're sticking me with nightsticks Seven eight, I'm forced to call Canibus Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could Do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin You got a gat nigga, use it, go 'head pull it Scientists got raw footage of me dodgin' bullets I walk the streets with heat, three biscuits Outnumberin' niggaz twin glocks with triplets When I spit shit I lace it, you get punched in face with Puncutations of five-knuckle phrases I assure you the vocalist standin' before you Will destroy you with temperatures hot enough to flame broil you My tongue moves much faster than yours do Every three thousand styles I change my voiceboxes oil Embarrass you in front of your crew to annoy you If you know some chicks that suck a good dick, then I'll employ you To this hip-hop shit, Canibus stays loyal That's why every Killuminati I battle somebody for you I'm warnin' you, me versus you, I hurt you My balance enables me to square dance in a circle Your head'll spin so fast you'll catch whiplash I practice lyrical witchcraft on your bitch ass Make your hard drive crash to see colon backslash Go back to the roots and reprogram your wack ass, nigga One two, watch out for the man in blue Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore Five six, you're sticking us with nightsticks Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could Do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? (right here, right here) A-ight? New Jersey in the house The people versus gestapo, what what Yo, there'll be no sequel to this revolution There will be no sequel to this revolution The people versus gestapo There'll be no sequel to this revolution, what what |
Who Wrote No Airplay By Youssou N'Dour?
Wyclef Jean
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