Common - Nag Champa (Afrodesiac For The World) Lyrics

[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 F*ckin 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