"Radio Stars" lyrics

[Legz Diamond:]
Occasionally, the overwhelming temptation to reach the pinnacle of the pop music genre will reduce even the most deplorable examples of the underground music scene to attempt to change their so-called artistic endeavors, in a vain attempt to appeal to the public at large. Behold, the metamorphosis:

[Violent J (Shaggy 2 Dope):]
Uh, (fuck platinum), platinum just ain't enough
We need more money, more houses and cars and stuff
(I'm sick of Juggalos), I want them other hoes
I want them shitty hoes, (you get with radio and videos)
We'll do whatever it takes to get some air play
(We'll make that bounce shit), triple our sales and pay
Yeah, come on Shaggy. (What?) Follow my lead, let's go
It's time we change our shit up to get what we need, come on

Uh, radio play! (Yo! Yo!) Come on and ride me, ride me
(Pull! Pull!) Come on and hide me, hide me
(Cat black I'm gonna grow [?] one, gold one)
(Club Cat) You want them old ones, old ones
(Black, black), look at that lady go, lady go
(Love me), I'm on that radio, radio
(Cut, cut, We gonna throw it away, throw it away)
(Give up) Give us the radio play, radio play
(What? Hey! What? What? What? Hey! What? What? What? Hey!)
(What? Hey! What? What? What? Hey! What? What? What? Hey!)
[?]

[Legz Diamond:]
The pathetic attempts never cease. The moronic musical onslaught continues to insult the intelligence of the savvy consumer. How much more can an audience be asked to endure?

[Violent J (Shaggy 2 Dope):]
Didn't work, ah fuck, what happened?
(They always told us that we sucked at rapping)
Well I don't know how to play a guitar
(I'll play the skin flute to be a radio star)
I'm sick of keeping it real, (yeah, and underground)
I want the ten-million-fan-sellout radio sound
(Even though we'll be played next summer)
Show me a radio dick, and I'll show you a hummer
(Here we go), oh my God

[Violent J:]
Joey fell in love with a college girl
She had a backpack and a pony tail
She said her name was Lisa but I do not know
She drinks disco lemonade and cherry Jell-O
I can put my Buddy Holly glasses on
I can even sing one of these faggot songs
I can wear checkered pants and never smile
Whatever's cool for your radio dial
Tommy fell in love with a college-
Fuck!

[Legz Diamond:]
The boorish, bumbling buffoons are baffled in their journey through the music business. Each sonnet is more ridiculous than the last. Their strides towards musical success are little more than a stumble into complete failure

[Violent J (Shaggy 2 Dope):]
That was bullshit, (what the fuck?) You think of something!
I'm sitting here trying to write hits, you're doing nothing
You wrote the crunk shit, but did it work? (No)
It flopped on its ass, (at least I tried though)
Alright, ain't no need to be fighting with each other
We need to start talking about relationships and lovers, (why?)
Can you sing? (No), neither can I
If we're gonna be radio stars, we at least gotta try

Production, remix, uh, remix, Clownboy, uh, feel me
Touch me, Clownboy, remix, uh
(Girl, I gotta let you know, on radio)
(I'ma lick you from head to toe)
(Girl, your perfume, it's smelling so sweet)
(I wanna make love, between the sheets)
(Girl, play my song, when I'm on the phone long)
(I'm a radio man, and I know that I can't sing, yes I can)
(Give me one more chance, and I'll make you dance)
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go wrong
(Girl, so you fucked my boy, I don't give a fuck)

[Legz Diamond:]
After years of endless attempts, ICP received almost no radio play. Finally, the two dim-witted idiots decided to stay with the wicked shit for life