Common lyrics

Common lyrics

"Real Nigga Quotes lyrics"

Belief lyrics
Belief Makes things real Makes things feel Feel alright Belief Makes things true Things like you You and I Tonight, you arrested my mind When you came to my defense With a knife In the shape of your mouth In the form of your body With the wrath of a god Oh, you stood by me Belief Buil
One two, one two, one two
Yo, I be the Big Illinois, here to build and destroy
I come on your deck, on your set
On your strip, through your burrough
Rippin any muthafucka that steps towards me
Yeah, I got power like floors be
Yo, check it out y'all

[Common]
Real nigga quotes I tote, got some shit on the free but 
This some shit that I wrote, legendary like The Goat
Who got game? Giving a quarter rest while I make these quarter notes
My album, niggaz was expectin, now my water broke
Before it, I was sorta broke
Get the paper for the funnies, sports and the horoscope
On a curry goat, like flu stokes order coke
You sharp with your rings and chain but you short a rope
At t
You Don't Have To Worry lyrics
chorus: No fear, no shame, you don't have to worry 'Bout a thang No fear, no shame, you don't have to worry 'Bout a thang Makes no difference Near or far, baby It's you I love no matter where you are My dedication will never die I'm always faithful till you break my heart You don't have to keep seaching for dishonesty It'
he end of the road trip still, I'ma hold shit down like syndrome Rappers are like Fox Brown tryin to get home Rarely get your touchdown, I'm in the end zone You can't honor what I'm on, then bitch nigga, get gone >From the wind storm, I've been told the street folklore Body language spoke raw, don't talk to broads that are spoke for That provokes war, stand out like cold sores You claim that you hard but you wholecore George Bush and CIA, you movin old or I Wright like Richard for publishing while you sold yours [Chorus: Dug Infinite] Com got rhymes, Dug make beats Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet (on the real)You know the shit be real(x5) (down on the real to real) [Common] Chicka-chi
Relief lyrics
You can't make mother cry You can't make her twist her ragged hair You can't make mother groan Even when her soldier sonny shakes his iron cocktail in the air... You can't make mother cry You can't make her give consent Though she flounders at the drainboard Though her back be down there and bent If sleeping brings relief
ka-M-chicka-C-chicka-M and my People call me Com and collective with prospective I draw crowds, go off like car alarm sounds Bomb like 'Nam sounds, tell yo bitch to calm down Unless you want to get me skull askin me to take my hat off On ill raps, I spit as if I had a bad cough This Craig nigga stole a style and ain't take the tag off Playin yourself, you can't come with it, so you jack off More heart than an artery, jones in my bones To see thugs in harmony, it's gonna be some drama If you try to sit Com down, this ain't comedy Shit is real like a station property, crew is formin colonies Commonly, I hear these rats thinkin they mahogany On every rap hook, soundin like a dog to me In a reservoir, I
Stand lyrics
Stand in the place where you live Now face North Think about direction Wonder why you haven't before Now stand in the place where you work Now face West Think about the place where you live Wonder why you haven't before If you are confused check with the sun Carry a compass to help you along Your feet are going to be on
low and go On and on, like Erykah or etcetera Designated not to make hits but hit home Out of proportion, hit makers get blown (scratching)(on the real) [Chorus: Dug Infinite] [Common] R and B studs kill me with they hardcore ballads Love songs is violent, them niggaz whole style is silent I hate to Staple the singers together, but in my head It's been ringin forever...and a day if you grew up on Marvin Gaye Where all you singers booty this and freak me baby, it gets me MCs be insecure, like them little hoe niggaz Immature Wearin bobs, if I got a show in your town, I'm there with mob Bukein niggaz and pullin broads is the apparent job (scratching)(on the real) chorus(x2) (don't front)(echoed)