Lyrics

[Intro] Come on, y'all, get live, get down Common Sense is in your town I said, come on, y'all, get live, get down Common Sense, ya know... [Verse 1] I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in That be scatterin' Over the global 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 Madelyne 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 [Scratched Hook] "Resurrection" [Verse 2] A prophet, raised among Black Disciples and Vice Lords Who don't give a (fuck) about mic cords At night, swords get up — together, black wrists get cuffed I'm wishin' for a change but 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 splashed In jams I M*A*S*H like Alan Alda (Niggas) nod, thangs say 'hey' as if I was Little Walter 87 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-cap smurf, Puffy jacket, Lugz boots on Steppin' to me is like goin' to the County being a Neutron [Scratched Hook] "Resurrection" [Verse 3] I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike When in dim light, I use insight to enlight Then write something that's skin tight Words of wisdom wail from my windpipe Imagination's 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 (That's right) 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 Off the malt liquor I fought niggas Now my speech and thoughts quicker Cruise the Southside streets, no heat and no sticker UAC got my back and we don't get no thicker 87 got my back and we don't get no thicker Extra P got my back and that's my (nigga) Now I'm a ho but not a ho (nigga) Ain't scared of no (nigga) When it's my turn to go I gotta go And I'm gone with the storm [Scratched Hook] "Resurrection"