Intro: Yeah I'ma get this one off for Eighty Seven Street South side of Chicago Chicago everywhere check it It's like c'mon y'all get live get down Common Sense is in your town I said c'mon y'all get live get down Common sense is in your town 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 Raps I make up like blacks do excuses I feel like Noah, hookin my mellows up on deuces If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines They say signs of the end is near I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin a beer Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager Skills uglier than Craig Mack in your ear I'm the flavor My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many white boys A million black men walkin, towards one direction For sure, the cream of the planets... resurrection Verse Two: A prophet, raised among black disciples and Vice Lords Who don't give a fuck about mic cords and nice swords get up, together black risk your cup I'm wishin for a change, my man want his change in a cup Yessir, I'm in the Mix-a-Lot Bitches put em on the glass while I'm puttin stickers on they ass I rule everything around me like cash On the rocks of reality, dreams get smashed In jams I M*A*S*H like Alan Alda Niggaz nod, they say hey as if I was Little Walter Eighty-Seven strip walker taught the code of the area by staying, within the barrier Exposed to stony stimuli, with that I identify Brothers went through my rotate solidify the realness Skull-caps, Murf Puffy jacket, Lug boots on Steppin to me is like goin to the county being a Neutron Verse Three: I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike When in dim light I use insight to enlight Device up in da 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 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 and thoughts quicker Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker Eighty-Seven got my back and we don't get no thicker Chicago got my back and we don't now check it I'm a ho but not a ho 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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Copy to Clipboard: Intro: Yeah I'ma get this one off for Eighty Seven Street South side of Chicago Chicago everywhere check it It's like c'mon y'all get live get down Common Sense is in your town I said c'mon y'all get live get down Common sense is in your town 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 Raps I make up like blacks do excuses I feel like Noah, hookin my mellows up on deuces If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines They say signs of the end is near I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin a beer Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager Skills uglier than Craig Mack in your ear I'm the flavor My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many white boys A million black men walkin, towards one direction For sure, the cream of the planets... resurrection Verse Two: A prophet, raised among black disciples and Vice Lords Who don't give a fuck about mic cords and nice swords get up, together black risk your cup I'm wishin for a change, my man want his change in a cup Yessir, I'm in the Mix-a-Lot Bitches put em on the glass while I'm puttin stickers on they ass I rule everything around me like cash On the rocks of reality, dreams get smashed In jams I M*A*S*H like Alan Alda Niggaz nod, they say hey as if I was Little Walter Eighty-Seven strip walker taught the code of the area by staying, within the barrier Exposed to stony stimuli, with that I identify Brothers went through my rotate solidify the realness Skull-caps, Murf Puffy jacket, Lug boots on Steppin to me is like goin to the county being a Neutron Verse Three: I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike When in dim light I use insight to enlight Device up in da 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 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 and thoughts quicker Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker Eighty-Seven got my back and we don't get no thicker Chicago got my back and we don't now check it I'm a ho but not a ho 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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