album cover
Sum Shit I Wrote
Common
1,627Hip-Hop/Rap1994
album cover
Sum Shit I Wrote was released on October 3, 1994 by Relativity Records as a part of the album Resurrection
AlbumResurrection
ReleasedOctober 3, 1994
LabelRelativity Records
LanguageEnglish
BPM81
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Lyrics

Yo, bust it out for the '94 sound
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
Big puffin', no idea, why not?
(And put your body in funk)
Yo Rhyme, pass me that quarter of that negro
This is my ****, Rocksan
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
(And put your body in funk)
Yeah, Murray, Mo'not, Big T Briggsy
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
The whole U-ack, 87th Street bounce
(And put your body in funk)
'Bout to come down, ah
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
(And put your body in funk)
Second
Marks, I erase like racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Brew is my escapism, when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need from you is understanding that I'm standing
On my own two, down with my own crew
Told cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to snap off
When I'm off that cognac, I can't hold back like a masseuse
I get loose like a screw turned to the left, right to tight
Man, when it's time for some action I get red, tonight's the night
An eye for an eye, a life for what's right
Dissect it, I'm on hi-tech shit, computers want to bite
Your style is Pascal, mine is basic and just instinct
I'm went to F.A.M. and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links
And knowledge is the key, goddamn it, uh, I'm the locksmith
Studied the missionary waitin on my life, the mic I rush like bostage
I switch styles like a channel with control that is remote
Engage in a page, and with words I elope
Walking down the aisles with styles, I freak the vows
That tie knots when I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest 'cause I loaned them microphones
They couldn't house the shit, so they had to rent-to-own
It's like that, coming from the Go rapper
I wanna bone Jada Pinkett and that ho, Patra
So keep on, and you don't, now come on
Ah keep on, and you don't
I wanna say, what's up to my **** 'San, yeah
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
Yeah, second
(And put your body in funk)
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
(And put your body in funk)
When I'm alone in my room, sometimes I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind, I see a wack-ass rhyme
Then I catch Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged
Like a **** in position with a stolen card of credit
Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My mellows call me Never, they be like, Never's going to get it
Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to poetics
That's why cats be like, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
Other studs come through to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew giving us weed and buying us brew
Like Kareem I got the hook up, brothers look out 'cause they look up
Rest in peace to Harold, I'm washing tons of rappers like Booker
T told me, you gotta get out of the crib, get into the world
How you going to come off with the style that's sterile?
It's like that, keep on
It's like that, keep on
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
(And put your body in funk)
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
(And put your body in funk)
My foundation is a black block of **** that rock they hat cock
I'm real like a fight with my rap, rappers I slapbox
Back I got my rap cocked get your Glock out the black face
Got tall flavor with fat taste, the rap race is a rat race
Just 'cause you got Adidas with the fat laces and the 'fro
Don't make you hip-hop, you sorry excuse for funk rap
Why is there so many cranks trying to rhyme? Yo, fuck that
The real shit's starting to come back
The Go is where I'm from and where I'm at, jack
I started eating cat when I was 10
Before then I was getting big dog like Glenn Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind
But there comes a time when you gotta come off of that booty
The facts of life I didn't learn from watching Tootie
Been living in the big city, but I still like Tootie
'Cause she got big titties
My style is steep, I rip rhymes on the incline
Splat guts, bust fat nuts, and lay up like a crip line
I'm slamming, jamming on the one
I'm a bad man, you're just a good son, come on
Yo, that shit was dope, man
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
My man Com' came up, 'bout time you get yours, fool
(And put your body in funk)
Yo, I'ma give some shouts out
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
This Agony from the U-ack, Rocksan now
(And put your body in funk)
My man, Rhyme, Murray, Big Mo', Don
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
Like to give a shout out to Mo', JD from Taiwan
(And put your body in funk)
(Ya'll don't wreck, reckon like you collect)
What's up young blood? Big Dot, Dirty
(And put your body in funk)
What's up Self?
Yo, Naughty, we in there, I'm out
(Body in funk)
(Body in funk)
(Body, body, body, body in funk)
(Body, body, body, body in funk)
Written by: Dion Wilson, Lonnie Lynn

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