Interlude

[Intro: Common] On the South Side, ha Gon' get down with that get down Let me spit rounds This is how the shit sounds Check it out, y'all, ha, ha [Verse: Common] It's the metaphysicals, some say the score of the revolution Therefore, I have come A calm before the storm Words are born, formed, drawn in the brain Soar, scorned by the pourin' rain But I can stand it, seldom do I feel stranded Granted, I stand with the style that is free I'm the Mandela, ask Nelson, brothers love me I lay it lovely, I'm ugly bogus on the mic I strike like a teacher, rappers are lines Stand in lines with they signs tryna picket They picket the way I kick it 'Cause with it, I'm not wicked, 'cause that's malignant I use my figments which is vivid And give it to ya, baby, like love without no limit I have no limits, no gimmicks, no image, don't mimic, I'm finished No minutes to be timid When shit stick, should I spit wit I'm the nitwit, that sick shit I stick with And kick with the crew I clique with That's who I sit with and trip with and sip with The buds are nipped in, and gold, I gift it And hit without equipment I've often been depicted As the solid one in liquid Yo, this is shit's for my man Honda