Hungry Lyric Common ONE DAY IT'LL ALL MAKE SENSE

Common:
Yo niggaz don't want none of this
Niggaz know they can't fuck
with this
Turn this shit up just a little more

I walk the night in
rhymin armor bomb a nigga like a winter coat
Have him on Death Row searchin
for an Interscope
Yet I sparkle like Irene Cara
Symbolize dope like
sirens do terror
Mariel just had a baby someone else decapitated

Flashbacks of past raps make me so glad I made it
Players is gettin
traded
I drop a gem off, them who's style is jaded
My juice is grated

Shit is so bangin niggaz say it's gang related
On philosopher's rink of
thought, I've skated with precision
Crews is gettin split like decisions

Com will let it ride in collision
Vision like Colleco or tele, I battle
stars in stellar...
Regions, my thought scheme was my like my offspring

Now, it's teethin
My reason of rhyme applies to season and time

Season of mind , body and regions divine
In mom's cookouts, I'm leavin
the swine
Verbal vegeterian, squashed beef with Ice Cube
Came in this
rap life nude
Now I'm fully clothed with flows
You tricks can't hide
behind expensive cars and clothes
Old niggaz I expose like Luke does hoes in
videos
With classic material, imperial and rugged like
Got mag, but my
slugs a mic
You fake like a smile, like a hug, I'm tight
Skip ladies,
this is rip a muthafucka night
Oracle arouse, niggaz don't even run for
cover right
Downtown interracial lovers hold hands
I breathe heavy like
an old man, with a cold can of Old Style
Hold a Stone Isle profile
Mix
between Malcolm X and Sef when I go wild
Hold mics like a second nut until
the second comin
Hummin comin towards you with power like forest do
Hip
hop, you my bitch and like a Ford, I'm Explorin you
So, wack niggaz be cool,
with them, I stay cordial
Flowin room temperature, cats is presumed
miniature
Like golf. Soft like Tiger Woods
And real nigga angles I've
stood with ways that's geometric
Don't need to rob banks with dike broads to
Set it
I levitate to the occasion, lounge like a lyricist
Rhyme wise,
you a rest haven
You sat by the door spooked like I was Wes Craven
You
need to do more deletin and less savin
A praise in hell, raisin heaven

Like the bill on my pager leavens
What you should have known from day
one
You will on day seven

(scratching)Hungry hip hop junkie in the
city(x3)

 

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