Resurrection '95 Lyrics - Common

Intro: 

Yeah I'ma get this one off for Eighty Seven Street 

South side of Chicago Chicago everywhere check it 

It's like c'mon y'all get live get down 

Common Sense is in your town 

I said c'mon y'all get live get down 

Common sense is in your town 

Verse One: 

I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter in 

That be scatterin 

Over the globe will my vocals be travellin 

Unravellin my abdomen it's slime that's babblin 

Grammatics that are masculine 

I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads 

I wish that Madelline, was back on Video LP 

Raps I make up like blacks do excuses 

I feel like Noah, hookin my mellows up on deuces 

If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless 

Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines 

They say signs of the end is near 

I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin a beer 

Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager 

Skills uglier than Craig Mack in your ear I'm the flavor 

My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise 

Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many white boys 

A million black men walkin, towards one direction 

For sure, the cream of the planets... resurrection 

Verse Two: 

A prophet, raised among black disciples and Vice Lords 

Who don't give a f**k about mic cords and nice swords 

get up, together black risk your cup 

I'm wishin for a change, my man want his change in a cup 

Yessir, I'm in the Mix-a-Lot 

Bitches put em on the glass while I'm puttin stickers on they ass 

I rule everything around me like cash 

On the rocks of reality, dreams get smashed 

In jams I M*A*S*H like Alan Alda 

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Niggaz nod, they say hey as if I was Little Walter 

Eighty-Seven strip walker taught the code of the area 

by staying, within the barrier 

Exposed to stony stimuli, with that I identify 

Brothers went through my rotate solidify the realness 

Skull-caps, Murf Puffy jacket, Lug boots on 

Steppin to me is like goin to the county being a Neutron 

Verse Three: 

I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike 

When in dim light 

I use insight to enlight 

Device up in da skin tight 

Words of wisdom wail from my windpipe 

Imaginations in flight 

I send light, like Ben's kite I've been bright 

Get open like on gym nights 

And in fights I send rights 

Don't hook with skins my friends like 

I spend nights up in dykes 

I've been indicted as a freak of all trades 

I got it made 

I bathe in basslines, rinse in riffs, dry in drums 

Come from a tribe of bums 

Hooked on negro and mums 

Had to halt with the, malt liquor 

Cause off the malt liquor I fought niggaz 

Now my speech and thoughts quicker 

Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker 

U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker 

Eighty-Seven got my back and we don't get no thicker 

Chicago got my back and we don't now check it 

I'm a ho but not a ho nigga 

Ain't scared of no nigga 

But it's my turn to go I gotta go 

And I'm gone with the storm 

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