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 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