Common - Food For Funk Lyrics
Common:What, yo, yo, yo, yo, yoYo, yo yo yo, yo, yo, yo, yoCheck it, yoYou say a one for the trouble, two for the timeCome on yall, lets rock that, uh(I can feel the funk)(x4)Check itI come to grips with micsI come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikesI come to grips with the likes of fred hamptonCold, so Im lampin, with no need for spotlightWhen I got light like an intersection, you talkBut you came to my town with protectionElection year, had the block hotI scream ***** the world for having a baby girl sorta ***** blockI write rhymes like I come from the windy cityWith my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with realityCasually, I walk through these war gamesSome claim say but then they take on whore namesIf thats the way your sex drives, stay in your laneIf youre a man, I cant tell like if the door rang nowChorus:Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the placeIt aint a bunch of niggaz all up in your faceThe music is thumpin and youre feelin the bassWhat you wanna do girl(wanna shout)To the brothas when you come in a jam, it aint a bunch of niggazIt aint high tech and aint got free liquorYou jackin his name and stick to make you jones get thickerWhat you wanna do man? (let go)Yo, check itSome niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikesAllow me to get on and bust like spike(uh)Lee, Im in the majors with no rotationThrough stations of bullshit, I see through like a pagerIn the age of aquarius, various thingsIs gonna carry us in intellect and what have youStreet astrologists interpret point stars and half moonsThen end up on garages or walls in bathroomsEvery black moon, a rap tune move meThe rap sun, I rain more than rudy, that unruly shit is playedIt dont stopIts time to get it, get it madeI got my mind made up like foxy browns faceI know how the underground tastesI want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round paceGet down based on true story, through corey, came close to theTeachersColder as the iceman, posted before it start wrinklinLinkin with cats, who dont react to change in the yearsFulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, nowChorus:I can feel the funk(x8)Yo, check it, check itI came through the corridor, with the auraRaw chicago mora, scope the horrorRead between the lines and know the borderSome pop wines for juice, I wait in the waterWaitin for you big willie niggaz to have a show at the cribWe gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it isTell you aint a player by your sweater doused with wack featherThe crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leatherI rap better than you, you, or maybe himBut I am like a tree and every lyric is a timbSpilled brews and greasy foods got my car smellySome be so high, they believe they fly like r. kellyBut then they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin sawed offThey fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul offI kick assChorus:(scratching)I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4)(scratching)wanna shout
