Communism (Acapella) Songtext
von Common
Communism (Acapella) Songtext
Yo Troy I′ma come on the rhythm
With a little bit of Communism
Yeah, hah
So check it out, yeah
Chick-a chick-a I'm
Chick-a chick-a on
Chick-a chick-a my
My own shit
Like an entrepeneur, that stepped in maneur
Man I′m newer than a Jack, I went up the hill with Jill
And Jack chills big booty
But then the booty up, I told the bitch she better have my money
Or step to the AMG
You know com'n sense, okay, can be
That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds
But since then, Common calm down!
I'm on some calm shit watch Com get complicated
Simple motherfuckers say the way that Com communicated
Was too complex, I got a complex not to complain
On my brain no complaint and so will my community
And I prefer compliments
So I complement at an angle, of 90 degrees
Since the 90′s, and music got known for grease
I got a sense of direction and a compass
Come past MC′s with compassion, though I heard the screams of
But I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort
Commiserate at the fort with Jeff, I′m so ill
But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals
Now Com can get the panty, but I want my own company
And Com is on a mission not to work for commission
It's a common market and it′s so much competition
But to me, competition is none
To my comp I'm a ton, I get amped like Watts in a riot
My Compact Disc is a commodity, so buy it
Instead of competing with Pete
Com compromised, Com made a promise
Not to commercialize, but compound the soul
Without the elements, compelling sense into Communism
With a little bit of Communism
Yeah, hah
So check it out, yeah
Chick-a chick-a I'm
Chick-a chick-a on
Chick-a chick-a my
My own shit
Like an entrepeneur, that stepped in maneur
Man I′m newer than a Jack, I went up the hill with Jill
And Jack chills big booty
But then the booty up, I told the bitch she better have my money
Or step to the AMG
You know com'n sense, okay, can be
That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds
But since then, Common calm down!
I'm on some calm shit watch Com get complicated
Simple motherfuckers say the way that Com communicated
Was too complex, I got a complex not to complain
On my brain no complaint and so will my community
And I prefer compliments
So I complement at an angle, of 90 degrees
Since the 90′s, and music got known for grease
I got a sense of direction and a compass
Come past MC′s with compassion, though I heard the screams of
But I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort
Commiserate at the fort with Jeff, I′m so ill
But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals
Now Com can get the panty, but I want my own company
And Com is on a mission not to work for commission
It's a common market and it′s so much competition
But to me, competition is none
To my comp I'm a ton, I get amped like Watts in a riot
My Compact Disc is a commodity, so buy it
Instead of competing with Pete
Com compromised, Com made a promise
Not to commercialize, but compound the soul
Without the elements, compelling sense into Communism
Writer(s): Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Ernest Dion Wilson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com