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