[Common]   Yeah baby boy   In the place (for you and yours) to be   Da uh da uh, we got the uh ya'll   We bout to rock ya'll, we got the uh baby...   Yo yo yo check it   Excite-ting, enlight-ning, invite-ting   I'm writin shit that I feel   Raps are Black Steel In the Hour of commotion, the motion of Com   Is like that of a ocean, devotion cuz I'm   The Earth, Wind, and Fire of hip hop   By Rakim and Short I been inspired   My shit knocks environ---ments   of cats wit seventeen's tint, time is money   The mind is funny, how it's spent on gettin it   It's sittin wit descendants of Abraham   Who say the jam is "Money, Cash, Hoes"   I went from bashful to asshole to international   Lover-self, word to the mother on my last record cover it's felt   Now deal wit it      Chorus: Bilal      I wanna get into it   Let's do this   I wanna see you move it   So move it   So let's just get into it   Let's do this   Can you feel the music?   The music oh ah, can you feel the music, the music      [Common]   Yo check it yo   In this never-ending battle to please   Niggas, magazine writers, MC's   Who request hot shit, I freeze   And tell em where I was rose, we always said cold   Hold your Horses and ya Carriages, this never-went-gold nigga   Rocks shows care-less   You not gon' respect self, at least respect the heritage   Affect the lives, the spread of wealth and the merit is   I realize what I portray day to day, I gotta carry this   And beats, rhymes and life is where the marriage is   Had Dreams of Fuckin R&B broads, it came true   Journalist I wreck, shared the same view   Picked up a fallen angel on the path that I MC   Familiar voice, come to find out the angel was me   Some say "You changin, Rashid"   Times are, we still close   I rhyme far, away away away   From what you accustomed to hearin everyday, uh-ah   You know the dope-choppin, gun-poppin, homies dyin   I'm amongst it, save the war stories for Private Ryan, INI      Chorus      [Common]   Yo check it yo   Women cry, children laugh, men dance   I refuse to lose self and try to win fans over   Weight on my shoulder fluctuates like Oprah's   My refrigerator poetry's magnetic like ultra   You couldn't hang if you was a poster   Posin like a bitch for exposure   It's rumors of gay MC's, just don't come around me wit it   You still rockin hickies, don't let me find out he did it   Got My Eyes on the Tiger, Eyes on the Prize   Eyes on the thighs of Mary J. Blige, imagin on how good the cat must be   Stop eatin meat, lost weight, but I still rap husky   My verse depth is that of a baby's first step   Or the old lady who died and the nurse wept   I flow like cursive writing, invitin you and yours to my openess   Shows allow me to cop Range/range like a vocalist   But man does not live on bread alone   What good is a Range/range when it's time to head home?      Chorus 2x      [Common] *during chorus on the second time*   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac   We be that, we be that   Afrodisiac, disiac yeah