Crayola Lyrics

Stax of wax 55 high fulla tracks

New cats jackin' beats from way back

Pay for play only way to get them platinum plaques

Clear the racks jobbers slobbin' you for tax

Robbery and snobbery

Shit is killin' me softly wit that same damn song

Makin' folk dumber in the summer

A bummer when they shot willie in that hummer

Keep it simple stupid means numbers

Payola dough white owned black radio

Runnin' on empty help go the desperado

So I bomb the toms and negros who pray to cash flow

No info to the masses as they shake their asses

No clue but I can't get my shit up in to you

Crayola with that same same ol shit

Crayola with that played playa shit

Crayola with that kid crayon shit

Crayola with them ol spray on hits

All fucked up ways must fall

Now the industry can't stop me

A vendetta to make the whole game better

They get the cheddar all I got is a fuckin' letter

What I owe? What am I

Another number and a ho, they don't know

Time to see 'em go like dominoes

About time 'cause they endorsed the crime up in the rhyme

Got these new souls controlled goin' outta their mind

Missed what I said 'cause they don't even own their own heads

Go one go all I forgot they made robots outta some of ya'll

Today all fucked up ways must fall
Public Enemy - Crayola - http://motolyrics.com/public-enemy/crayola-lyrics.html
Today is up against the wall

Misled in the head fucked by quiet storms and love songs

Noddin' heads too hollow forgotten tomorrow

Swallowing all that shit that's shallow

Give the baby anything the baby wants

But that's how them bastards get us up in them caskets

Try to get me where they want me

Before some of them jump me

Go tell 'em I'm a start a rebellion

Educate the felons easy on, yeah

Tell 'em what the fuck am I yellin'

No tellin' you got them artists and artificials

If it ain't right I don't give a damn if it's sellin'

Recruits chasin' and racin' for that loot

Usin' usual drum loops so I salute my troops

I don't socialize or mingle, fuck the promotionals

And you know what and that g-damn single

And the marketing team for that matter

It don't matter DJ's gettin' dimes for time on a platter

I ain't gotta be high to jack so I hijack

FM radio EFF 'em turn it around muthafucka

Gods to niggas, queens to bitches

Race against time see 'em all runnin' for the riches

Everything had its chance last dance

Some things change like them weather forecasts

Ha funny how shit don't last

Crayola with that same same ol shit

Crayola with that played playa shit

Crayola with that kid crayon shit

Crayola with them ol spray on hits