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1 2 many
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Fix lyrics 1 2 many by Common Sense
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Current song lyrics
Common: <br />What yo yo yo yo yo <br />Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo <br />Check it yo <br />You say a one for the trouble two for the time <br />Come on y'all let's rock that uh <br />(I can feel the funk)(x4) <br />Check it <br />I come to grips with mics <br />I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes <br />I come to grips with the likes of Fred Hampton <br />Cold so I'm lampin with no need for spotlight <br />When I got light like an intersection, you talk <br />But you came to my town with protection <br />Election year, had the block hot <br />I scream "fuck the world" for having a baby girl sorta cock block <br />I write rhymes like I come from the windy city <br />With my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with reality <br />Casually, I walk through these war games <br />Some claim say but then they take on whore names <br />If that's the way your sex drives, stay in your lane <br />If you're a man, I can't tell like if the door rang now <br />Chorus: <br />Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place <br />It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your face <br />The music is thumpin and you're feelin the bass <br />What you wanna do girl(wanna shout) <br />To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz <br />It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor <br />You jackin his name and stick to make you jones get thicker <br />What you wanna do man?(let go) <br />Yo, check it <br />Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikes <br />Allow me to get on and bust like Spike(uh) <br />Lee, I'm in the majors with no rotation <br />Through stations of bullshit, I see through like a pager <br />In the age of Aquarius, various things <br />Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you <br />Street astrologists interpret point stars and half moons <br />Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms <br />Every black moon, a rap tune move me <br />The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly shit is played <br />It don't stop <br />It's time to get it, get it made <br />I got my mind made up like Foxy Brown's face <br />I know how the underground tastes <br />I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace <br />Get down based on true story, through Corey, came close to the <br />teachers <br />Colder as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin <br />Linkin with cats, who don't react to change in the years <br />Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now <br />Chorus: <br />I can feel the funk(x <br />Yo, check it, check it <br />I came through the corridor, with the aura <br />Raw Chicago mora, scope the horror <br />Read between the lines and know the border <br />Some pop wines for juice, I wait in the water <br />Waitin for you Big Willie niggaz to have a show at The Crib <br />We gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it is <br />Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather <br />The Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leather <br />I rap better than you, you, or maybe him <br />But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb <br />Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly <br />Some be so high, they believe they fly like R. Kelly <br />But then they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin sawed off <br />They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off <br />I kick ass <br />Chorus: <br />(scratching) <br />I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4) <br />(scratching)Wanna shout
New song lyrics
Common: <br />What yo yo yo yo yo <br />Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo <br />Check it yo <br />You say a one for the trouble two for the time <br />Come on y'all let's rock that uh <br />(I can feel the funk)(x4) <br />Check it <br />I come to grips with mics <br />I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes <br />I come to grips with the likes of Fred Hampton <br />Cold so I'm lampin with no need for spotlight <br />When I got light like an intersection, you talk <br />But you came to my town with protection <br />Election year, had the block hot <br />I scream "fuck the world" for having a baby girl sorta cock block <br />I write rhymes like I come from the windy city <br />With my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with reality <br />Casually, I walk through these war games <br />Some claim say but then they take on whore names <br />If that's the way your sex drives, stay in your lane <br />If you're a man, I can't tell like if the door rang now <br />Chorus: <br />Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place <br />It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your face <br />The music is thumpin and you're feelin the bass <br />What you wanna do girl(wanna shout) <br />To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz <br />It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor <br />You jackin his name and stick to make you jones get thicker <br />What you wanna do man?(let go) <br />Yo, check it <br />Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikes <br />Allow me to get on and bust like Spike(uh) <br />Lee, I'm in the majors with no rotation <br />Through stations of bullshit, I see through like a pager <br />In the age of Aquarius, various things <br />Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you <br />Street astrologists interpret point stars and half moons <br />Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms <br />Every black moon, a rap tune move me <br />The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly shit is played <br />It don't stop <br />It's time to get it, get it made <br />I got my mind made up like Foxy Brown's face <br />I know how the underground tastes <br />I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace <br />Get down based on true story, through Corey, came close to the <br />teachers <br />Colder as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin <br />Linkin with cats, who don't react to change in the years <br />Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now <br />Chorus: <br />I can feel the funk(x <br />Yo, check it, check it <br />I came through the corridor, with the aura <br />Raw Chicago mora, scope the horror <br />Read between the lines and know the border <br />Some pop wines for juice, I wait in the water <br />Waitin for you Big Willie niggaz to have a show at The Crib <br />We gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it is <br />Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather <br />The Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leather <br />I rap better than you, you, or maybe him <br />But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb <br />Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly <br />Some be so high, they believe they fly like R. Kelly <br />But then they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin sawed off <br />They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off <br />I kick ass <br />Chorus: <br />(scratching) <br />I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4) <br />(scratching)Wanna shout
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