Common - Hungry Lyrics
Common:Yo, niggaz dont want none of thisNiggaz know they cant ***** with thisTurn this shit up just a little moreI walk the night in rhymin armor, bomb a nigga like a winter coatHave him on death row searchin for an interscopeYet I sparkle like irene caraSymbolize dope, like sirens do terrorMariel just had a baby someone else decapitatedFlashbacks of past raps make me so glad I made itPlayers is gettin tradedI drop a gem off, them whos style is jadedMy juice is gratedShit is so bangin niggaz say its gang relatedOn philosophers rink of thought, Ive skated with precisionCrews is gettin split like decisionsCom will let it ride in collisionVision like colleco or tele, I battle stars in stellar...Regions, my thought scheme was my like my offspringNow, its teethinMy reason of rhyme applies to season and timeSeason of mind , body and regions divineIn moms cookouts, Im leavin the swineVerbal vegeterian, squashed beef with ice cubeCame in this rap life *****Now Im fully clothed with flowsYou tricks cant hide behind expensive cars and clothesOld niggaz I expose like luke does hoes in videosWith classic material, imperial and rugged likeGot mag, but my slugs a micYou fake like a smile, like a hug, Im tightSkip ladies, this is rip a mutha*****a nightOracle arouse, niggaz dont even run for cover rightDowntown interracial lovers hold handsI breathe heavy like an old man, with a cold can of old styleHold a stone isle profileMix between malcolm x and sef when I go wildHold mics like a second nut until the second cominHummin comin towards you with power like forest doHip hop, you my ***** and like a ford, Im explorin youSo, wack niggaz be cool, with them, I stay cordialFlowin room temperature, cats is presumed miniatureLike golf. soft like tiger woodsAnd real nigga angles Ive stood with ways thats geometricDont need to rob banks with dike broads to set itI levitate to the occasion, lounge like a lyricistRhyme wise, you a rest havenYou sat by the door spooked like I was wes cravenYou need to do more deletin and less savinA praise in hell, raisin heavenLike the bill on my pager leavensWhat you should have known from day oneYou will on day seven(scratching)hungry hip hop junkie in the city(x3)
