| Yeah baby boy
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| In the place (for you and yours) to be Da uh da uh, we got the uh yall
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| We bout to rock yall, we got the uh baby…
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| Yo yo yo check it Excite-ting, enlight-ning, invite-ting
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| Im writin shit that I feel
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| Raps are black steel in the hour of commotion, the motion of com
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| Is like that of a ocean, devotion cuz im The earth, wind, and fire of hip hop
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| By rakim and short I been inspired
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| My shit knocks environ---ments
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| Of cats wit seventeens tint, time is money
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| The mind is funny, how its spent on gettin it Its sittin wit descendants of abraham
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| Who say the jam is «money, cash, hoes»
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| I went from bashful to asshole to international
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| Lover-self, word to the mother on my last record cover its felt
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| Now deal wit it Chorus: bilal
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| I wanna get into it Lets do this
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| I wanna see you move it So move it So lets just get into it Lets do this
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| Can you feel the music?
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| The music oh ah, can you feel the music, the music
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| Yo check it yo In this never-ending battle to please
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| Niggas, magazine writers, mcs
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| Who request hot shit, I freeze
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| And tell em where I was rose, we always said cold
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| Hold your horses and ya carriages, this never-went-gold nigga
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| Rocks shows care-less
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| You not gon respect self, at least respect the heritage
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| Affect the lives, the spread of wealth and the merit is I realize what I portray day to day, I gotta carry this
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| And beats, rhymes and life is where the marriage is Had dreams of fuckin r&b broads, it came true
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| Journalist I wreck, shared the same view
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| Picked up a fallen angel on the path that I mc Familiar voice, come to find out the angel was me Some say «you changin, rashid»
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| Times are, we still close
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| I rhyme far, away away away
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| From what you accustomed to hearin everyday, uh-ah
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| You know the dope-choppin, gun-poppin, homies dyin
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| Im amongst it, save the war stories for private ryan, ini
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| Yo check it yo Women cry, children laugh, men dance
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| I refuse to lose self and try to win fans over
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| Weight on my shoulder fluctuates like oprahs
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| My refrigerator poetrys magnetic like ultra
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| You couldnt hang if you was a poster
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| Posin like a bitch for exposure
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| Its rumors of gay mcs, just dont come around me wit it You still rockin hickies, dont let me find out he did it Got my eyes on the tiger, eyes on the prize
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| Eyes on the thighs of mary j. |
| blige, imagin on how good the cat must be Stop eatin meat, lost weight, but I still rap husky
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| My verse depth is that of a babys first step
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| Or the old lady who died and the nurse wept
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| I flow like cursive writing, invitin you and yours to my openess
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| Shows allow me to cop range/range like a vocalist
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| But man does not live on bread alone
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| What good is a range/range when its time to head home?
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| *during chorus on the second time*
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac
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| We be that, we be that
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| Afrodisiac, disiac yeah |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nag Champa (Afrodisiac For The World), artist - Common. Album song Like Water For Chocolate, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп