Selling more batteries than
bullets on the battlefield
Trooping through the concrete
Humble with their ears on the music,
ain't trying to hear nothing but whatever the button played
Whatever the rapper or the singer want to say,
say whatever the whatever person, place, or thing
Whether peripheral, rear -view,
With your eyes on the streets,
watching back, gotta watch your back
Loose lips not sinking ships, just lip -syncing to the hits,
classics and exclusive new shit
With your ears on your headphones,
Whether to soothe your savage
beast or quell your fears
If you're like me, you run through
Play it loud, let it blare so the world
Helping to ignore the bull
Ten feet away, still portable
Who you think you're talking to?
You know we can't hear you over
I'll tell my story walking
I'll tell a story about a girl named
Astoria with three -story legs
Gettin' double -takes from
every man that walked past
sure we feel it mandatory
To try to gas every girl he see
walkin' past with a ass like
Shorty, if alcohol was booty,
And all I wanted was a shot to
make a toast to a fine wine
Let me get your number one time, uh
You can't holla back, be like that
Fuckin' stank attitude with
your matchin' ass cracked
But she wasn't disturbed,
She couldn't hear a word,
cause all she ever heard was a
Walkman music, portable, affordable
Walkman music, radio recordable
Walkman, ten feet away, still portable
who you think you're talkin' to?
you know we can't hear you over
Walkman music, tell your story,
If you carry on with a clarion and
it gots a thousand watts too
If you're sitting on foam and it's spinning
when you're not and at least 22
Discman matches your kickstand and
it's strapped to the palm of your hand
You need something to jog to
Zoning out in the laundromat
Bus stopping at the bus stop
Carry it no matter where you're at
Because I know you and you know me
you know I probably see you on a train
Some might think it's lame, but
You know, parking and insurance
J -Live was old enough to drive
I was old enough to know that every good
hit don't need a theme song
Walkman music, portable affordable
Help me to ignore the bull,
Ten feet away, still want a bull,
Who you think you're talking to,
You know we can't hit you with a