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Common - Sum Shit I Wrote lyrics
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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 All the Way by Calloway |
 El Mariel by Pitbull |
 Version by Mark Ronson |
 Afrodisiac by Brandy |
 Lovers' Requiem by I Am Ghost |
