Released: September 30, 1997
Songwriter: Dug Infinite Common
Producer: Dug Infinite
[Produced by Dug Infinite]
[Verse 1: Common]
Real nigga quotes I tote
Got some shit on the free but this is shit that I wrote
Legendary like The Goat, who got game?
Give it a quarter rest while I make these quarter notes
My album, niggas was expecting, now my water broke
Before it, I was sort of broke
Get the paper for the funnies, sports and the horoscope
Order curry goat like Fluke Stokes order coke
You sharp with your rings and chain but you short of rope
At the end of the road trip still, I'mma hold shit down like syndrome
Rappers are like Fox Brown trying to get home
Barely get your touchdown, I'm in the end zone
You can't honor what I'm on, then bitch nigga get gone
Fuck the wind storm, my pen told the street folklore
Body language spoke raw
Don't talk to broads that are spoke for, that provoke war
Stand out like cold sores, claim you hard but you ho-core
George Bush and CIA you moving O's for
I write like Richard for publishing while you sold yours
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
[Verse 2: Common]
Chicka-chicka-M chicka-C chicka-M am I
People call me Com and collective with perspective
I draw crowds, go off like car alarm sounds
Bomb like 'Nam sound, tell your bitch to calm down
Must want to give me skull asking me to take my hat off
I'm ill, raps I spit as if I had a bad cough
This crank nigga stole a style and ain't take the tag off
Playing 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
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
[Verse 3: Common]
R&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
While all you singers booty this and freak me baby, it gets me
Emcees be insecure, like them little ho niggas immature wearing bobs
If I got a show in your town, I'm there with mob
Bukeing niggas and pulling broads is they apparent job
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
[Verse 1: Common]
Real nigga quotes I tote
Got some shit on the free but this is shit that I wrote
Legendary like The Goat, who got game?
Give it a quarter rest while I make these quarter notes
My album, niggas was expecting, now my water broke
Before it, I was sort of broke
Get the paper for the funnies, sports and the horoscope
Order curry goat like Fluke Stokes order coke
You sharp with your rings and chain but you short of rope
At the end of the road trip still, I'mma hold shit down like syndrome
Rappers are like Fox Brown trying to get home
Barely get your touchdown, I'm in the end zone
You can't honor what I'm on, then bitch nigga get gone
Fuck the wind storm, my pen told the street folklore
Body language spoke raw
Don't talk to broads that are spoke for, that provoke war
Stand out like cold sores, claim you hard but you ho-core
George Bush and CIA you moving O's for
I write like Richard for publishing while you sold yours
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
[Verse 2: Common]
Chicka-chicka-M chicka-C chicka-M am I
People call me Com and collective with perspective
I draw crowds, go off like car alarm sounds
Bomb like 'Nam sound, tell your bitch to calm down
Must want to give me skull asking me to take my hat off
I'm ill, raps I spit as if I had a bad cough
This crank nigga stole a style and ain't take the tag off
Playing 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
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
[Verse 3: Common]
R&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
While all you singers booty this and freak me baby, it gets me
Emcees be insecure, like them little ho niggas immature wearing bobs
If I got a show in your town, I'm there with mob
Bukeing niggas and pulling broads is they apparent job
[Chorus: Dug Infinite]
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Sound complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
You know the shit be real
more tracks from the album
One Day It’ll All Make Sense
- Making a Name for Ourselves
- Pop’s Rap Part 2 / Fatherhood
- Stolen Moments Pt. III
- Stolen Moments Pt. I
- Real Nigga Quotes
- Reminding Me (of Sef)
- Stolen Moments Pt. II
- My City
- Invocation
- All Night Long
- Gettin’ Down at the Amphitheater
- 1, 2 Many
- Food for Funk
- G.O.D. (Gaining One’s Definition)
- Hungry
- Retrospect for Life
- Introspective
From the album
- One Day It’ll All Make Sense (1997)
Common popular songs