Orange Pineapple Juice

Common

Composição de: Common
Hand me a little bit of umm, orange pineapple juice 
I'ma sip on it, check it out 
I got a rhyme, you got a rhyme 
But my rhyme is better than yours 
(repeat 2X) 
U-A-C, they get they P's and 
No I.D., be gettin his P's and 
The Late Show, they get they P's and 
ProfessaNots, they get they P's and 
Peep the maneuver, how bout the Heim-lich 
I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon 
I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck, tough 
I'm the act to follow, housing kids like Ronald 
Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change like coins 
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng, choyoyoyoyyyyyng 
I draw a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique 
and everybody there be like, "YEAH!" 
Cause cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is' 
I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids 
shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my muhfucka true 
Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker 
askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard 
So where's the beef, jerky? 
I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with names 
but I do remember your face from someplace this is one taste 
of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo' flavors 
Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin
niggaz 
under 
on the tundra, cause "they're plain, they're plain"
(Fantasy Island) 
I'm on a plateau that is fat so 
It's just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see 
how I land, I'm grand like a finale 
I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause Cali got bitches check it 
Aiyyo Dart this is a sickness 
Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da, ah-eh-da-da 
Dee-da-da-da-DOO-doo, dee-da-da, dee-da-da 
South Side, rock on and 
The West Side, we gotta rock on and 
Hey yo Chicago, we gotta rock on and 
The East coast, you gotta rock on and 
The West coast, you gotta rock on and 
ah down South, you gotta rock on and 
Check it... "Now you can go!" 
Mister Pussy Emcee, just get on gone 
Get on gone, you pussy MC! 
Steppin to me, with them dirty feet you'll get defeated 
like Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to, align crew 
My great, great, grandpap done been through 
so much it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga 
So I figure like a father... that I'ma Turn This Mutha Out 
But Common you ain't hittin in New York 
I don't know what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props 
Some cats think I'm six feet I'm so deep 
Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin like
switches 
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag 
I ask the bitches, "Why your titties saggin?" 
Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes like breastses 
I can get down, d-d-d-down like pessimist 
Ring the Alarm, I got Charm like a neck-a-lace 
Tell me true statues had to move they neck to this 
Didn't you, didn't you... and it, and it, and it 
and it don't stop, bust it 
"Gotta crew ya better tell em" --> Keith Murray
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