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[Treach] You know it's Naughty on the RADIO (Turn it up!) |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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[Treach] Turn up your mother****in RADIO (Turn it up!) |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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Verse One: Treach |
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I'm the King of Hip-Hop, there is none NIGHER |
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Sucker mother****ers better call me SIRE |
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To burn my Kingdom, there ain't enough FIRE |
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I won't stop rockin cause I won't re-TIRE |
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Under the sheet, boricua heat, a street fleet, with missle seekers |
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Cause G.I. Joe's a John Doe, ass beat with some street sweepers |
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Hold the heaters, want a war? Bless the butcher |
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Glad to meet you MOTHER**** THAT, nice to mush ya |
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The twenty and twenty the bottles the bottles |
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of beer of beer on the wall on the wall |
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The twenty and twenty the bottles the bottles of, beer! |
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Now if the one of the one bottles of bottles of |
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happened to happened to fall |
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we'll bring the rock with hip-hop, and YES YES Y'ALL |
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So I asked some-mother****in-body who breed's the bangest? |
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Car jackers with clappers or star rappers with street flamers! |
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Here's a smoker yeah the Newport that you bought |
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Wanna hear this bump from New City, New Guinea to New York! |
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(Niggy what?!) |
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Chorus: Rustic Overtones and Treach |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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[Treach] Turn up your mother****in RADIO (Turn it up!) |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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Verse Two: Vinnie |
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My radio believe me, I like it loud |
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I don't care if you don't like it cause it draws a crowd |
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And if you wanna find me one-eighteen is the block |
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My first name Vinnie, the last name ROCK (ROCK) |
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But don't you come around unless you got a boombox |
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to add on to the sounds that we already got |
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We don't be trippin or flippin we concentratin on rhymes |
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Never snitchin or bitchin or perpetratin no crime |
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Kay-Gee and Treachery's both down with me |
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The illest on the mic since Run-D.M.C. |
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Whether urban or top 40, Naughty, thought we'd resurrect the |
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where-we-from amensia, blackin out so much I suffer |
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epileptic seizures (AHH!) Takin our time just to |
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guarantee we'll please ya -- the wait is over |
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so call up with your request it's been a good long while |
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Naughty By Nature's on your favorite dial |
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Chorus: Rustic Overtones and Treach |
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[Treach] Turn up your mother****in RADIO (Turn it up!) |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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Verse Three: Treach |
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When undercovers don't know who to cop, spots gotta move the rock |
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Now Poppa the Cop's got out with two blocks sport a newer glock |
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Niggaz be in tuned to watch, some like to move in mob |
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Dressin wildin up my niggaz ? slice my tuner top |
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The streets are boilin brewin hot since 1-2 to Watts |
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But later we go and party with more mami's than when Menudo dropped |
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Take a ride through the buddha block, 360 through the block |
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Lock it up, then stop, cause there's two of the cop |
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Find a crew to knock I'm in the mood to rock, fuelin hot |
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Actin like you knew the block when you the cops, two to drop |
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My motto here you see is no way slick |
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Givin you news to get you off my nigga O.J.'s dick |
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Haters don't walk shit, they talk shit, new tactics |
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like the six million dollar man they see six, after them taxes |
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(no shit) My niggaz rap shit like they classic, but ask this |
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I'll BLOW any show, and if you diss you'll get yo' ASS KICKED |
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Chorus: Rustic Overtones and Treach *repeat 3X to fade* |
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[Treach] Turn up your mother****in RADIO (Turn it up!) |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
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{ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da, ladi-dadi-da} |
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Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! |
