Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pyramids, artist - Common.
Date of issue: 03.11.2016
Song language: English
Pyramids |
A nigga told me only rhyme for 19-year-olds |
Nigga, you should rhyme wherever the spirit goes |
Here it goes, lyrical miracles |
These are pyramids from the imperial |
In theory though, low end scenario |
And sound boy burial drove me to classic material |
Aerial nights blew my mind out of stereotypes |
For ethereal heights, I write like Richard |
Invisible man, pictured below |
With the hieroglyphicable prolifical flow |
On the walls where the mystics of Kemet would go |
Supreme wisdom in my system is the kick in the door |
I don’t rhyme for the sake of riddlin' though |
This is a ritual for those depicted as low |
Now I passed life like I’ve been here before |
The reincarnation of It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold |
Us Back, coldest raps, for me, the globe is like a culdesac |
Around the world in a day, find forever and I stay |
I’m from the weather where they spray, there’s gotta be a better way |
People dying every day, wonder what would heaven say |
Devils need to get away |
From Chevrolet to Escalade, from evergreen to the everglades |
I kneel where the rebels prayed |
Seen 50 grey, but they need better shades |
Niggas rhymin' like their whole style in retrograde, the escapade I’m on |
Is like when the sun, moon and stars was born |
It’s hard to explain how these pyramids formed |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll be burning, burning hot |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll be burning, burning hot |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll burn, I’ll burn, and I will burn, burn, burn |
I arrived on the planet, never took the Southside for granted |
Smoke a little, keep a high standard |
The Roots are my niggas so got a fly band with |
Son of the sit-ins, you know who I stand with |
Dude said I was a hero, I ain’t nothing but a sandwich |
A gluten-free one at that, close my eyes see my raps |
My bio is feedback from what we need rap |
On some Marshawn Lynch, let me run it back |
And come with that new black spiritual |
Every rap’s a miracle, condition now critical |
Can’t lack lyrical, we need black generals |
Holy war, tap into you like Savion |
But I’m a orator, the corduroy boy |
Came the door-to-door name down the corridor of fame |
I walk like an Egyptian on a mission to listen to conditions |
Envision a vision of what we wishing |
I’ve been commissioned to deprison the prism of your mind |
Spit the wisdom of the one divine |
Close encounter of the wonder kind, front a line |
Shift the paradigm with a pair of rhymes |
Styled by Michaela in the suite with Caroline |
Getting dressed up under pressure, Alabama Shakes on |
Incense rising from the dresser |
Child of a fresher God |
Influenced by the life of the former, Joanne Chesimard |
Assata Shakur, I gotta do more |
The light-skinned spook who got in the door |
I got in here for the same thing Cassius Clay uses pottery for |
I’m on a world tour with Muhammad the prophet, my man |
And where we land the pyramids stand |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll be burning, burning hot |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll be burning, burning hot |
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot |
MCs I’ll burn, I’ll burn, and I will burn, burn, burn |