Throw Your Hands Up

I was sitting on the island of Manhattan,
or what it had been.
She said, "Take it easy, but you can't move slow,
with all the time you took, we could have built a shantytown boat,
sailed away to sea, caught fifteen reruns on the TV screen."
I was walking slow down,
Falling out of love with the radio sound
Throw your hands up DJ, we got verbal shotgun shells
You better change up your rotation, you best put your hands up now.
I was sitting by the railroad track,
kicking back and off came my shoes,
I had the see-saw blues,
and all the while coming through a ghetto blaster,
that music was pushing me,
move faster.
There's a big bad wolf coming into town,
to blow the 3 little piggies off the radio dial.
We are calling out to you to move your bones,
come on and pick up your phones.
This is a call up, this is a stick up,
We are calling out to you, to get those oral AKs and shoot up the DJ,
Come on, lets go
War on the Radio.
Do you remember when we used to sip Olde E,
and talk about similarities between animals and you and me,
and the KKK and the NYPD?