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Tonight's musical guest |
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Two of Chicago's finest emcees |
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Give it up for Common and Kanye West |
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It's common sense |
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Yeah! Common sense |
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It's Common Sense, yeah well |
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On the Dave Chappelle Show |
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Everybody gotta eat right? It's the food, baby |
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I walked in the crib, got two kids |
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And my baby mama late |
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So I had to did, what I had to did |
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'Cause I had to get |
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I'm up all night, getting my money right |
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Until the blue and white |
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Now the money coming slow but at least a nigga know |
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Slow motion better than |
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You love to hear the story again and again |
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About these young brothers from the City of Wind |
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Like juice and gin in the city, we blend |
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Amongst the hustle, titties and skin, fifties and rims |
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Y'all know the Sprewells and trucks that's detailed |
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Heartless females that wanna ride in 'em |
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Felt the South side venom in raw hides and denim |
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Pimp minds collide with 'em, a system that tries victims |
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We living in, my man in the fast lane pivoting |
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On the block white is selling like Eminem |
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On the block it jump off like Kim and them |
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On the block it's hot, you can feel it in your skin |
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And then shorties get the game but no instructions to assembling |
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Eyes bright, it seem like the fight is dimming them |
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Call my man cuzo like I'm kin to him |
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He trying to stay straight, the streets is bending him |
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I walked in the crib, got two kids |
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And my baby mama late |
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So I had to did, what I had to did |
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'Cause I had to get |
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I'm up all night, getting my money right |
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Until the blue and white |
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Now the money coming slow but at least a nigga know |
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Slow motion better than |
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It's all good in the hood like raps and gems |
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Throwbacks and Timbs, blacks and rims |
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Whether on ball courts, attires of all sorts |
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We never fall short, with us it's our Force like And 1's |
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Some waves, some air guns, the days of the fair one is over |
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For cats is colder than four below, with self, I go toe to toe |
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Wondering if it's for the art or for the doe |
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Though I know to grow a nigga, I gotta learn to let go |
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Though I know to doe, I gotta bring back to the ghetto |
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Arrows on Terot cards pointing to the grind |
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Po' livin' in more prisons, pointing to my mind |
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Shine the light up, clench my fists tight, holding the right up |
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Freedom fight in dark gear for the years to get brighter |
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Situations and jobs get tighter |
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My man trying to get his weight and height up, c'mon |
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I walked in the crib, got two kids |
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And my baby mama late |
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So I had to did, what I had to did |
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'Cause I had to get |
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I'm up all night, getting my money right |
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Until the blue and white |
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Now the money coming slow but at least at nigga know |
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Slow motion better than |
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I, I know I could make it right |
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If I could just swallow my pride |
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But I can't run away or put my gun away |
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You can't front on me |
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I, no, I can't let it ride |
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No, no, not tonight |
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See, I can't run away or put my gun away |
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You can't front on me |
