This is a song about "Radio"

‘cause when it come to winning, convincing is only been a few

Controlled by the radio these soundwaves surround you

The death of intelligence, replaced by radio and audio waves

But now i see myself on stage,spitting like its fire leaving the mic in flames

When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz

My shit on the radio your shit on the shelf

Turn off the radio

My niggas is winning though

With some matching pink panties, lipstick from my granny

Kill the radio, till i gotta win a grammy

Single man crew of prose flowing on radio

My dick hates sweaters so she jack it slow

So ray j went straight to radio station the very next day

But habits have changed and i've been trying to change mine all the way

The radio is lame, and the record labels are to blame, they just want fame

Notice everything it wasn't. realizing why it shouldn't ever be again