it ain't a bunch of niggaz It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker What you wanna do man? Yo, check it
G.D. till the world blow-up And Stone run it Hunted by police for display in state vile cages Come out to make minimum wages And with a desiese that are contagious It
it, a babysitter and a car he would need The stripper broad, my TV and couch, she couldn't carry it Unless some nigga helped and that's who she'll get
it i yes y'all'ed it and they feared it i called it i outlawed it and they cleared it now i am i and it is it and that's that but ain't that a bitch
toting guns don't shoot Stop smoking blunts oooh I've got a song for you [Verse One] Sike! didn't think it was a slow jam- did ya? Didn't think it was
common sense Give me inner vision, kill the superstition and the confidence Built the tolerance, now it's more that I consume it When it boards up my
I'll say no HE: Then it's not too late to negotiate SHE: Oh, well, we'll see BOTH: Perhaps we can agree HE: I'm on a campaign to make you mine I'll picket
(feat. Common, Cuban Link) [Marlon:] "Yo it's, yo B" ("Chill chill Marlon, chill") [Marlon:] "Nah, yo, it's...I don't know this nigga B" ("Chill Marlon
, the struggle is a common one. Against the white, male, Aristocratic, moneyed, landed, Anglo-Saxon, and all his children of all races and classes. Free the woman and you'll
your feeling can't belong To this given situation that no-one can take away A smile, a nervous glance, "Well I'll be back some other day" But you really
feel none When you hear that humming, common sense to take a duck and get the fuck outta harms way Your dying would absolutely make my day Why he had
you'll pay the con-se-quences Cause Mister Common Sense is (yeah) not gonna take it, so leave you better believe it Even if your name ain't Ripley, cause
watch out, I'm tellin you why Common Sense is breaking, marks down, ah-follow-me-now Yo Common Sense is breaking, marks down Uhh, check it, check it, check it
strength of our love. Gandhi called it Ahimsa. The Greenham Wowan call it the 'Politics of Whimsy', But it doesn't end there, neither is it enough. Gandhi
to find presennce way beyond our measure, so baby don't pout [Common] Don't pout, De La Soul now turn it out Don't pout, Common Sense'll turn it out
then it's back again, what do you do, onedo you fight it or let it win, what do you do [Verse 2:] It's easy to get a gun than it is to get a job, so
'll have to have my credentials plaqued for all you hating assholes Who won't believe me so think of Common Sense And yo Take it Easy son take take it
I mean? Don: I mean, well . . . Phyllis: It's, it's hotness. [17:39] Phyllis: It used to be very, it was really nice and quiet in this place, that's