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| 1. |
| 3:48 | 
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Verse One:
I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in That be scatterin Over the globe will my vocals be travellin Unravellin my abdomen it's slime that's babblin Grammatics that are masculine I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads I wish that Madelline, was back on Video LP I went against all odds and got a even steven Proceed to read and not believin everything I'm readin But my brain was bleedin, needin feedin, and exercise I didn't seek the best of buys, it's a lie to textualize I analyze where I rest my eyes And chastise the best of guys with punchlines I'm Nestle when it's Crunch-time For your mind like one time If poetry was pussy I'd be sunshine cause I deliver like the Sun-Times Confined in once-mines on dumb rhymes I combine I'm hype like I'm unsigned, my diet I unswine Eatin beef sometimes I try to cut back on that shit This rap shit is truly outta control My style is too developed to be arrested It's the freestyle, so now it's out on parole They tried to hold my soul in a holding cell so I would sell I bonded with a break and had enough to make bail A misdemeanor fell on his knee for the jury I asked No for his ID and the judge thought there was two of me Motion for a recess to retest my fingerprints They relinquished since, cause I was guilty in a sense Verse Two: I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike when in dim light I use insight to enlight devices hit the skin tight Words of wisdom wail from my windpipe Imaginations in flight I send light, like Ben's kite I've been bright Get open like on gym nights And in fights I send rights Don't hook with skins my friends like I spend nights up in dykes In spite I've been indicted as a freak of all trades I got it made I bathe in basslines, rinse in riffs, dry in drums Come from a tribe of bums Hooked on negro and mums Had to halt with the, malt liquor Cause off the malt liquor I fought niggaz Now my speech is lost quicker Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker U Ak got my back and we don't now check it I'm a hoe but not a hoe nigga, ain't scared of no nigga But it's my turn to go I gotta go And I'm gone with the storm |
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| 2. |
| 4:39 |
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Verse One:
I met this girl, when I was ten years old And what I loved most she had so much soul She was old school, when I was just a shorty Never knew throughout my life she would be there for me ont he regular, not a church girl she was secular Not about the money, no studs was mic checkin her But I respected her, she hit me in the heart A few New York niggaz, had did her in the park But she was there for me, and I was there for her Pull out a chair for her, turn on the air for her and just cool out, cool out and listen to her Sittin on a bone, wishin that I could do her Eventually if it was meant to be, then it would be because we related, physically and mentally And she was fun then, I'd be geeked when she'd come around Slim was fresh yo, when she was underground Original, pure untampered and down sister Boy I tell ya, I miss her Verse Two: Now periodically I would see ol girl at the clubs, and at the house parties She didn't have a body but she started gettin thick quick DId a couple of videos and became afrocentric Out goes the weave, in goes the braids beads medallions She was on that tip about, stoppin the violence About my people she was teachin me By not preachin to me but speakin to me in a method that was leisurely, so easily I approached She dug my rap, that's how we got close But then she broke to the West coast, and that was cool Cause around the same time, I went away to school And I'm a man of expandin, so why should I stand in her way She probably get her money in L.A. And she did stud, she got big pub but what was foul She said that the pro-black, was goin out of style She said, afrocentricity, was of the past So she got into R&B hip-house bass and jazz Now black music is black music and it's all good I wasn't salty, she was with the boys in the hood Cause that was good for her, she was becomin well rounded I thought it was dope how she was on that freestyle shit Just havin fun, not worried about anyone And you could tell, by how her titties hung Verse Three: I might've failed to mention that the shit was creative But once the man got you well he altered the native Told her if she got an energetic gimmick That she could make money, and she did it like a dummy Now I see her in commercials, she's universal She used to only swing it with the inner-city circle Now she be in the burbs lickin rock and dressin hip And on some dumb shit, when she comes to the city Talkin about poppin glocks servin rocks and hittin switches Now she's a gangsta rollin with gangsta bitches Always smokin blunts and gettin drunk Tellin me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk Stressin how hardcore and real she is She was really the realest, before she got into showbiz I did her, not just to say that I did it But I'm committed, but so many niggaz hit it That she's just not the same lettin all these groupies do her I see niggaz slammin her, and takin her to the sewer But I'ma take her back hopin that the shit stop Cause who I'm talkin bout y'all is hip-hop |
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| 3. |
| 2:39 |
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I express like an interstate
Hyper when I venilate My rap pieces penetate and infiltrate your mental state Just to reitterate That I innovate Bonin' broads when they men-estruate I speand a great time with the rhyme More than I did any female I derailed your train of thought Because your brain was caught On some other man's thinking Now your third eye is blinking My rhymes be kicking like a brother's breath be stinking I get funky for sure while you're *sniff* unsure If you got beef, chief, then let that shit unthaw This track was a broad I'd be bonin the shit out of it Bang, bang, bang then see what I can get out of her probably some scratch clothes and some J's I got six thousand ways to rhyme Choose one I stand out like a nigga on a hockey team I got goals, and I can like a pop machine I come clean Like a fiend in Chi I'm down with rehab My stutter styles crazy Cause that's right, we bad, we bad Pryor to Richard I was that crazy nigga Cause I kick ass And when i wreck other rappers be like whiplash! [Verse Two] It's like I come I come to the party in a b-boy stance I rock on the mic and make the gils want to dance It's like I come I come to the party in a b-boy stance I rock on the mic and make the gils want to dance Me without a lyric, is like a nigga without a beeper I'm a blow this shit out, cuz I'm the joint like reefer If Barry White was in the mob I still would be deeper Cause I had lyrics back when I used to run with Keyvin MC's step to me, butt-ass naked like "What's up?" I said, "You know you done fucked up Now I'm sayin, "You know you done fucked up" Everybody that here be say I'm Jams like the NBA Cause I'm on fire If I was a Michelan I wouldn't tire It's funny how time flies Well I'm as fly as time I don't believe in role models But if I do, then I'm mine I make brothers say "True" They be you and be like fiction I want 'spect and dead presidents Like Richard Nixon I'm a coach not a player Not a gay mc, I'm straighter My style is similiar to AIDS You can f with it now But catch you later You can't touch this, cuz this is what I'm feelin bro I'm the man, you need me I'll be on the fifth flo' Just chillin Even if it's played out it's not the word to play so peace I'm out to Dirty Burgers I'ma give my change to Reese |
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| 4. |
| 5:06 |
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I got so much trouble on my mind
So I take time Out my day To pray and I say Now I lay me down to sleep Hopin' that I keep My soul Peep, I'm gettin' old And it's a cold cold world And I ain't even got a bomber Livin' with my momma It's the same routine Keep my room clean I'm lookin' to do some new things but ain't shit to do I'm twenty-two - catch In the prime of my life I have no time for a wife I funnel through the tunnel Disgruntled, tryin' to find me some light In the rim of darkness Aiight you sing, I may not be the darkest Brotha But I was always told to act my age and not my color Knowin' that my color was that of the original So now I sing the new negro spiritual It goes get up stand up...etc. It's like how can you understand the pain When you never had to stand under the rain When it rains it pours, and it's about to come down hard Thank God I found you As I walk down the road of existence I get resistance From all angles I tangle For cash Hopin' it'll last 'Til the end of the week But all I eat is fast food And you know how junk food goes right through ya So I return to the arab And on the way back I stop and the liquor store Grab me a six pack Knowin' that once I'm done with that I'll be back To get some more Once I get started I don't wanna stop And I can't turn around Brew - I can't turn it down Ironically I turn it up My liver I burn it up (Fat line) It's my life I live it up The cup I gotta give it up One day I'm cruisin' down a one way street and I done passed fun day Three blocks ago It itself life is an obstacle As I maneuver through the manure I try to be responsible I want a job but I ain't lookin - how come I ain't tryin' to degrade myself bein' nobody's Calvin But I'm a couch bum what makes it bad I had incentive But I disintegrated To a state that's stagnated I procrastinated I can't recall a day without bein' intoxicated or blowed Ain't dealin' with a full deck and any day I could fold What makes it bad, I wasn't dealt that bad a hand And I had a plan But things didn't go through The way they were supposed to Thank God I found you It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder How I keep from goin' under, I ponder And try to keep my concentration In this idiotic nation They say become I doctor, but I don't have the patients/patience Adjacent To that situation I want an occupation That I'm into 'Cause yet if I begin to Live to my potential I went to School for fourteen years and my best teacher was experience I reminisce and wish I could go back in time to eighty-nine When there was just sunshine But now it's like I'm gettin' older to so much strain and stress I don't think I'll ever be happpy until I rest In peace Of mind And find Who I am But thank God I found you |
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| 5. |
| 3:33 |
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[featuring no i.d.]
("yeah yeah, now check the method" - extra p from atcq's keep it Rollin ) * cut and scratched 4x by mista sinister Verse one: no i.d. No time to get all excited, just write it From the inside let the pen slide, and spread The ink on the papyrus, come understand this (what? ) Paint the canvas, givin you my vision To mold you, compose you Get a picture of the scene, then get an exposure Words out my cipher, the life of my circle Train tracks aside of me, cabrini to idabi, don't lie to me You want me in your needle Squirt me in your vein, maintain on the couch I excite your brain till I'm out of your system Be digger not a nigger or a niggerole I figure you're The winner of the bread, precede your thoughts 'fore they come into your head (yo kid kinda nice!) From the word, I speak, unique, clear and concise Heads I'm boring, soaring to a new height of flight And then fight the night With a light to gain sight make your competition say aight No i.d. from the city with a bridge on thirty-first Makin all butt crews disperse Chorus: repeat 4x [no i.d.] I'm in my own world ("yeah yeah, now check the method") Verse two: common [no i.d.] ("check the method") I'm in my own world I say pay attention boy, I say uhh looka here I want you to see me when you do you look and fear I dilate pupils it's cornea than a retina My book of life you felt it, because of the texture When I'm bubbly I call the ex ta, see if she still love me I'm advanced like a copy studs be on my sac to dub me Cheap ass niggaz! go and purchase it I ain't do all this work for shit My style's my child I gave birth to it Like an immaculate conception, clean I came Went through label pains, didn't give shorty a name I put, bros before hoes that's the way love and life goes It's a jungle out there but I'm never fever-in for them white hoes I love black thighs, you sisters better realize The real hair and real eyes get real guys So before you makeup your face, you better make up your mind I hope you wake up in time for the revolution, or you gon be like "i can't believe it! I got shot!" Bowe/bo so I lick one, not for riddick But I got the rid, for my dick And the crab mc's that be all over it Huh, what good is the rid without the comb? I'm the street pick peace to nick, tim, mark and sekendall I remember me and deion tried to get into mendal I didn't have no i.d., they wouldn't let me in Now them same gumps be askin me to get them in I be like, "you don't know me... fool" And color it purple, cause he ain't in my circle Now I'm talkin square biz to you and I'm out I'm in my own world |
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| 6. |
| 1:02 |
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*Common's answering machine beeps*
Say brotha If you ever let me leave out a club with a big fat ass, stove-like bitch like that without point out the facts, I'ma kick your motherfuckin ass. Man that nerve of the hoe not to give me no pussy. Come up in my house tryin to watch movies and shit. This ain't no motherfuckin cinema, BITCH! Who the fuck she thought I... Say brotha, I wasted a evening I shoulda went witcha, but ohh well You know I gets my pussy anyway, you know That's how playaz do But gahd-damnit Rashan That big ass bitch *cracks up* If you'da said to spread on that hoe Man I could kick my own ass Well, should go to work Just another wasted nite And ohhhh, ohhhh Heyyy, heyyy, what can you say |
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| 7. |
| 5:19 |
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Intro:
Check it on the one, you Com is gonna come (X3) And check it out, ha. Verse 1: My raps do laps around tracks to the days The idiot vibin', I'm the comma comma Chamelion I use to pop the willy on my blue and gray sting ray It had maxed, I was with bitches that had coochie Bassum wasn't rollin' Starters, looking harder than niggas Hoes wore clothes, that exposed their figures Ain't 7 steps in the jam, next the police come Heist there would be one, numbers I would get at least one We come to the get together with whatever You wouldn't know how deep it was, we all did shit together Eat up all your vittles, drink your brew and then step to The next cue, let's do it again y'all That was when mad was tall and phat was cold The days of Old Chicage and Fun Town and shorties we run round Play strike outs till sun down, but the shit ain't as fun now And the city is all run down, we troop down to Jew Town Talking cat down on some gear, have enough for a Polish incom fair I stare, at what use to be Bubbles and think about who use to cop our liquior (Who?) Our neighborhood father figure Hook: I'm out with my crew, ain't nuthin' to do but ah, "Niggas be rollin'" - Ol' Dirty Bastard from Protect Ya Neck Ain't nowhere to go, so I hook up with a hoe while I "Niggas be rollin'" Gotta make a stop take a leak and get some chops cause um "Niggas be rollin'" We gonna hit the streets for some brew and some eats cause um "Niggas be rollin'" Verse 2: I got more rhymes then the Manor got folks had style Since I went to McDowl, wearin' boats And penny loafers know I had the nickel in mines We use to hoop in my yard but now I dribble the rhyme It's like rain drops couldn't make our game stop Skeeter will hit from the SAME spot Torla tore my shit down, get down, put your body in motion Only the strong survive, but on the 6 or the 5 Live as hot as sex use to be at the Racket Wrong club with music by Andre Hatchet Or either Beat Box Ferris at them country club parties Would be hot as hell and house stud would get "Find a body!" Sawyers I would go there, hip hop clubs were so rare I like the music anyways and it was always hoes there Was said to have the best chicks but mostly High Park and V hoes Is who I mess with, the best shit was troopin' to the loop With your posisions held class crooked ass but still go the division (I remember that) Over Yamela's crib while his old girl was at work Bust a smoothie on the spread, but sill have some on your shirt Hook Verse 3: I tuned into BMX and taped Farly on the tonemaster I took the 6 instead of the 28 to get home faster Then HBK was the only station that would fuck with rap You was on the shore by yourself castin' stay up your act What you could make of it, you was a gump they was takin' shit Either fight or break for it, we go to the lake and get full My drink there was Boons and Red Bull I remember swimming in Avenlon, and being in a pool I thought I was cool, with my "members only" and a bold fade Wall to wall greens to get the sport gray and palmade And soft breasts, as we got older we would star crush and bang fags Go to Marshals and change tags, I snagged nuff niggas And games are off the wall, in softball, Piggy one I would call When I first got my three way callin', I caught Marsh tryin' to lie Home of the original gangbangers, and ain't nobody shot Hook |
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| 8. |
| 2:16 |
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Intro:
Yo Troy I'ma come on the rhythm with a little bit of Communism Yeah, hah So check it out, yeah Chick-a chick-a I'm Chick-a chick-a on Chick-a chick-a my my, own shit Like an entrepeneur, that stepped in maneur man I'm newer than a Jack I went up the hill with Jill And Jack chills big bootay But then the booty up, I told the bitch she better have my money Or step to the AMG You know Com Sense, oh yeah him be That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds But since then, Common calm down! I'm on some calm shit watch Com get complicated Simple motherfuckers say the way that Com communicated was too complex, I got a complex not to complain on my brain no complain and so will my community And I prefer compliments So I complement at an angle, of ninety degrees It's the ninties, and music got known for grease I got a sense of direction and a compass Come past MC's with compassion, though I heard the screams of But I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort Commiserate at the fort with Jeff I'm so ill But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals Now Com can get the panty, but I want my own company And Com is on a mission not to work for commission It's a common market and it's so much competition but to me, competition is none To my comp I'm a ton I get amped like Watts in a riot my compact disc is a commodity, so buy it Instead of competing with Pete Com compromised, Com made a promise Not to commercialize, but compound the soul without the elements, compelling sense into Communism |
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| 9. |
| 0:34 | 
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| 10. |
| 4:54 |
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"I love the way I am and can't nobody out here change me" --> KRS-One
(repeat 2X, then 2X with 'Common' at the end of each line) Check it out Good morning... be at calm, I'm back HUH! It's me again Is it me you're looking for? (Yup) For the perfect beat, sweetly oblique I'm fresh, I come clean, but I can't whistle *attempt at whistling* Psss, I'm only buggin While No dug in the crates, I dug in my nose and picked a rhyme any rhyme I don't have any time to waste, I'm hip... don't even trip to an easy travel agent now we fly for free I can be fly for free, you want some flyer to read then buy from me I got the flame like U-I-C but I be, U-A-C Some of the realest illest chillest cats you may see in your life if you get one Rappers are like jobs to me (why?) because they get done Here it comes I'm as Able as Cain to get raw That's why the DJ's mix me, I'm gonna bust dickses not da bomb so save all your threats I'm good to go and also I'm Rets Rhymes I wrecks affects the roughnecks down to the preps in the Polos, the studs with pros hoes who wheeze, the bald-headed to the dreaded To folks with butters, high rollers and rollers Players with plat studs with stocking caps I be rocking raps til I collapse Niggaz play my tape about as much as they do craps I'm on point, I celo, I see high Hi C, I'm free at last I'ma free man, free as the world be and like an early bird, I'm special But you ain't that special, as that investor So to myself I say congratulations I'm glad you had the patience, you better have the patience Cause thisisme "I love the way I am and can't nobody out here change me" --> KRS-One Common! (repeat 3X) Whassup Scony Rony I'm that boney homey from Stoney (Common) you know me! Off the GP niggaz see me on the TV Talkin Take It EZ, and they was like "He ain't hardcore!" But hardcore is far more than bats and gats It stems back to the roots of being true It's gonna get me Me, you just get you You What I look like, talkin about some shit I ain't do? I ain't shoot nobody I ain't shank nobody I ain't kill nobody, it wasn't us it was THEM! The Warriors, I'm a warrior and still don't have to show no gun It takes one to know one, and no one can tell me how to be, cause I'ma be me, aight? Cause I'm a man, now check it "I love the way I am and can't nobody out here change me" --> KRS-One Common! (repeat 3X) *singing* Sometimes, sometimes, I get a good feeling! When I'm chillin at the flat, lookin at the wall Wondering can I come off of it, I'm off a bit on the mic I be talkin shit But some say my talk don't make no Sense I'm tryin to make the Dollars, my momma told me to go to school and be a scholar, but school ain't for me So don't even go there, I'm comin out of nowhere, to go where probably in about seven years, I won't have no hair But not only am I the Hair Club President, I'm also a client I come off like a toupee, I still have to pay 2Pc Dark A Raider that never Lost the Ark/arc, on the shot but now when I shoot rock, I be all out of breath My boy Adefo wanted to be a chef But he went down South, and fell in love call me love cause love is gonna getcha I'ma getcha I'm like B.J. my Arm is Strong and I Stretch ya Styles from East to West, all across the country I'm like that big fat one niggaz catch when bumpin I probably would get bumped more if I was a gangster But I am a gangsta, call me the gangsta of love!!! I love good music, I love my momma I love myself, I love you, and you love me And thisis -- I'm out (KRS sample plays in background) Yo I wanna say peace to my moms, my grandmomma Lil Chandra, and John, yo rest in peace to my Aunt Stella My sides moms, Ron's moms, Dawn's moms, Corey's moms Who are you? These people be themselves y'all, peace em out Common! (4X) (KRS sample is cut and scratched to end) |
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| 11. |
| 3:28 |
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Hand me a little bit of umm, orange pineapple juice
I'ma sip on it, check it out I got a rhyme, you got a rhyme But my rhyme is better than yours (repeat 2X) U-A-C, they get they P's and No I.D., be gettin his P's and The Late Show, they get they P's and ProfessaNots, they get they P's and Peep the maneuver, how bout the Heim-lich I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck, tough I'm the act to follow, housing kids like Ronald Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change like coins Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng, choyoyoyoyyyyyng I draw a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique and everybody there be like, "YEAH!" Cause cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is' I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my muhfucka true Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard So where's the beef, jerky? I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with names but I do remember your face from someplace this is one taste of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo' flavors Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggaz under on the tundra, cause "they're plain, they're plain" (Fantasy Island) I'm on a plateau that is fat so It's just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see how I land, I'm grand like a finale I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause Cali got bitches check it Aiyyo Dart this is a sickness Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da, ah-eh-da-da Dee-da-da-da-DOO-doo, dee-da-da, dee-da-da South Side, rock on and The West Side, we gotta rock on and Hey yo Chicago, we gotta rock on and The East coast, you gotta rock on and The West coast, you gotta rock on and ah down South, you gotta rock on and Check it... "Now you can go!" Mister Pussy Emcee, just get on gone Get on gone, you pussy MC! Steppin to me, with them dirty feet you'll get defeated like Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to, align crew My great, great, grandpap done been through so much it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga So I figure like a father... that I'ma Turn This Mutha Out But Common you ain't hittin in New York I don't know what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props Some cats think I'm six feet I'm so deep Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin like switches Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag I ask the bitches, "Why your titties saggin?" Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes like breastses I can get down, d-d-d-down like pessimist Ring the Alarm, I got Charm like a neck-a-lace Tell me true statues had to move they neck to this Didn't you, didn't you... and it, and it, and it and it don't stop, bust it "Gotta crew ya better tell em" --> Keith Murray |
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| 12. |
| 5:23 |
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| 13. |
| 3:50 |
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Intro:
Gotta watch out for them critters I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live huh (x4) Verse 1: I was born in Chicago raised on Planet Rock talking zsa zsa zsa zsa, Catch knock my tape like beats (uh), I'm fresh as fruits, You pussy MC, it's you I rebuke, repent You burn up you got me bit, I'm coming as ebit Got on big hoes at Freaknit, frequently your telling me Won and worn your rockets, so, he ain't put no scratch in my pocket Yo heard, with my head I cock it, and rock it like that brother in Colors Cause I want y'all to live, my crew is 2 Live, we sneakin' to the rear But I can't get us all in free (what?) it's just another case of that 2 dollar MC I rock the same clothes 3 days straight to you they wrinkled but to my they straight Now I'm straight are you straight? I'm straight as long as I got beer I thought about it jack, and now I'm out of here Hook: "Maintain the rock" I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh "Don't stop the rock" (X4) Verse 2: I need me some new socks, I need me some new drawers I draws attention, like a letter to a sargent Theres A Few Good MC's the wack I'm giving code red Slim say I got nobody but when they see me at the party they be like "Go head, go head", cause I gots the cuts like Bobby, rappers are dickheads Choppin' they demo, I do it like Big Red My office hours are from 9 to 5, while you avoid the party I make it live The fellas nod and the chicks dance While I'm coolin' in my jumpers and my big pants I'm as dope as PCP, MC's see me and start having flashbacks I don't flash scratch, I gotta watch my back Now a days blacks don't know how to act, besides Larry Fishburn Charles Jug and Wesly Snipes, marks wanna test me because I test the mics I check 'em like sound, and like loose I'm down Plus I done got better since Soul By the Pound, I maintain Hook (X4) Verse 3: I fall fresh apon the spirit, with the lyric that's overwhelming And house more hoes then Spellman, worse unwelcome like James Johnston My brains sponcering speech on the mic, I'm like a Jackson Rappers I'm fondaling, they try to settle out of court But I, could never be bought, what type of rebel eats pork? I'll take the cat and never get caught, you wack together we fought Cause I can't see my melons boxing if he's not boxin' with 'em I don't care who started it, I'm gonna be apart of it Regardless of the odds of how hard It's been many times we was outnumbered and we still got with them I got rhythm from some boogers and some foxes But if I becomes a 10 then some brothers all some gin And I got juice, and this niggas scared I'll F your head up, like the L.A. 4, when I flow for cash I got for broke like Mel for Moore Why should a male with a B8 get more then me? When Rashid got an MC degree, and a doctorine in rockin' shit I go to docs to get A fishwish with cheese, I don't mix with MCs, cause I just don't like the mother But I'm still maintaining Hook |
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| 14. |
| 4:31 |
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Marks I erase like racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism, when I'm bubbly I just kick it What I need from you is understanding that I'm standing On my own two, down with my own crew Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to snap off When I'm off that Cognac I can't hold back like a massouse I get loose like a screw turned from left right to tight When it's time for some action I get Red's "Tonight's Da Night" An eye for an eye, a life for his wife Dissected I'm on some hi-tech shit computers want to bite Your style is Pascal, mine is Basic and just instinct I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the locksmith Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like bostage I switch styles like a channel with controls that are remote Engage in a page, and with words I elope Walking down the aisles with styles I freak the viles Anti-Nazi when I rocks like a Z-28 At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned them microphones They couldn't house the shit so they had to rent to own It's like that, coming from the go rapper I wanna bone Jada Pinkett and that hoe Patra So keep on, and you don't, now come on Ah keep on, and you don't Sometime when I'm alone in my room I stare at the wall And in the back of my mind I hear a wack-ass rhyme And I catch Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged Like a nigga in position with the stolen card the credit Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit My mellows call me "Never", they be like "Never's going to get it" Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to poetics That's why cats be like "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Other studs come through to see what I am up to They be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and buying us fruit Like Kareem I got the hook up, brothers look out because they look Rest in peace to ?Heavena?, washing tons of rappers like Booker Tee told me "You gotta get out of the crib, get into the world" How you going to come off with the style that's thourough? It's like that, keep on, ha ha It's like that, keep on My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat cock I'm real like a fight with my rap, rappers I slapbox Back I got my rap, now get your glock out the black face Got tall flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race Just cause you got Adidas with the fat laces and the fro don't make you hip-hop You sorry excuse for funk rap Why is there so many cranks trying to rhyme, yo funk that The real shit's starting to come back The Go is where I'm from and where I'm at, jack I started eating cat when I was 10 Before dinner I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind But comes a time when you gotta get off of that booty The facts of life I didn't learn from watching Tootie But living in the big city but I still like Tootie cause she got big titties My style is steep, I write rhymes on the incline Splat guts plus fat nuts and lay up like a crib line I'm slamming, jamming on the one I'm a bad man, you're just a good son, come on |
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