[Common]
   Yeah, this is the truth
   Common Sense, wit Tony Touch
   It's the type of music we be
   From Chicago to New York
   I ain't move, I'm just movin crowds baby
   Yo yo check it
   Supreme life, I seen light at the end of the path
   Beginning wit math, stumbled, found a gym in a half
   Cognac, pimps, Hennessey's resemble my dad
   Went to, the School of Hard Knocks, it's hard to remember the staff
   >From the land of shit-talk
   Point stars and pitch forks, this ain't a game, only a bitch barks
   The streets is stayin hard, peoples tryin to out-think God
   Tradin crack for link cards
   Heavy, so I sleep hard and breathe eye accounts
   In this paper marathon, meditatin to tapes of Farrakhan
   And Seravon, sharin songs wit broads, I know they need it
   It's like I'm Eldrige Cleaver wit my mind set on cleavage
   Reachin for the heavens since the bliss fell from the elevated, I speak
   Wit Technics like a 1200
   Black males wanted, the sign of the times
   Read: one for project prisons wanted dead
   I sped to the light, my realness bled through the mic
   Like Marvin, I'm willing to save the children givin lead to the night
   It was written but untold
   Some hold the scroll in the hearts, the truth is told in the arts
   Like old school to park, my thoughts connect
   No longer is it impeach the president or break to mic check
   I circumcised the clouds, wit thoughts that raise your third eyebrow
   Cuz the sun is my child, bloaw
   Yeah it's Com Sense, Tony Touch
   Peace to my god NO ID, yeah Y-Not, Dug Infinite, Sean Lett
   We just bringin it to y'all Chicago style to New York
   And we travellin all over the world, peace