or
Common

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
Ripping any motherfucker that steps towards me
Yeah I got power like floors be
Yo check it out y'all

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, niggas was expecting, 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 the end of the road trip still, I'ma hold shit down like syndrome
Rappers are like Fox Brown trying 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 whole core
George Bush and CIA, you moving old or
Write like mention for publishing but you sold yours

[Chorus]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
(on the real) You know the shit be real
(on the real) You know the shit be real
(on the real) You know the shit be real
(on the real) You know the shit be real
(on the real) You know the shit be real
(down on the real to real)

Chicka-chicka-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 asking 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 forming colonies
Commonly, I hear these rats thinking they mahogany
On every rap hook, sounding like a dog to me
In a reservoir, I flow 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]

R and B studs kill me with they hardcore ballads
Love songs is violent, them niggas whole style is silent
I hate to Staple the singers together, but in my head
It's been ringing 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 niggas Immature
Wearing bobs, if I got a show in your town, I'm there with mob
Bukein niggas and pulling broads is the apparent job
(scratching)(on the real)

[Chorus: x2]

(Don't front)

Written by LYNN, LONNIE RASHID / THOMAS, DOUGLAS MCKINLEY
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.