Resurrection (Extra P. Remix) Common
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Resurrection (Extra P. Remix)" by Common. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
Come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense is in your town
I said, come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense, ya know...
[Verse 1]
I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in
That be scatterin'
Over the global my vocals be travellin'
Unravellin' my abdomen it's slime that's babblin'
Grammatics that are masculine
I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads
I wish that Madelyne was back on Video LP
Raps I make up like blacks do excuses
I feel like Noah, hookin' my mellows up on deuces
If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless
Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines
They say signs of the end is near
I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin' a beer
Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager
Skills uglier than Craig Mack — in your ear, I'm the flavor
My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise
Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many (white) boys
A million black men walkin' towards one direction
For sure, the cream of the planets—resurrection
Come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense is in your town
I said, come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense, ya know...
[Verse 1]
I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in
That be scatterin'
Over the global my vocals be travellin'
Unravellin' my abdomen it's slime that's babblin'
Grammatics that are masculine
I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads
I wish that Madelyne was back on Video LP
Raps I make up like blacks do excuses
I feel like Noah, hookin' my mellows up on deuces
If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless
Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines
They say signs of the end is near
I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin' a beer
Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager
Skills uglier than Craig Mack — in your ear, I'm the flavor
My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise
Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many (white) boys
A million black men walkin' towards one direction
For sure, the cream of the planets—resurrection
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