Walkie Talkie

Child 1:
Why don’t you tell me a story?
Child 2:
Please tell me a story too.
Man:
You know, I think I’ll tell you the story of my life.
Child 1:
You tell me!
Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto!
Check me out!
Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto!
Check check me out!
Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto!
Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto! Ghetto-ghetto!
I’m a bad ass motherfuckin’DJ
This is why I walk and talk this way!
I’m a bad ass motherfuckin’DJ
This is why I walk and talk this way!
I’m a bad ass motherfuckin’DJ
This is why I walk and talk this way!
You suckers!
He’s the master of disaster and the master of beat
Come-Come-Come-Come-Come with it Ghetto-ghetto-ghetto-ghetto-ghetto-to
He’s so quick
He’s so fast
He’s so quick, he’s so fast
He’s upper-class player / He’s on the crossfader (?)
DJ Shadow with the scratch
Moves through town like a skater
Come on, rock
Check out the cut you suckers
This is why, this is why I walk
This is why, this is why I walk
I’m a bad ass motherfuckin’DJ
This is why, this is why I walk
This is why, this is why I walk
This is why, this is why I walk and talk this way
Check me out
Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Holy shit!
Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Rave! Holy shit!
Let the beat rock.