Yeah I'ma get this one off for Eighty Seven Street
 South side of Chicago  Chicago everywhere check it
 It's like c'mon y'all  get live get down
 Common Sense is in your town
 I said c'mon y'all  get live get down
 Common sense is in your town
 Verse One:
 I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter in
 That be scatterin
 Over the globe will my vocals be travellin
 Unravellin my abdomen it's slime that's babblin
 Grammatics that are masculine
 I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads
 I wish that Madelline, was back on Video LP
 Raps I make up like blacks do excuses
 I feel like Noah, hookin my mellows up on deuces
 If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless
 Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines
 They say signs of the end is near
 I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin a beer
 Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager
 Skills uglier than Craig Mack in your ear I'm the flavor
 My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise
 Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many white boys
 A million black men walkin, towards one direction
 For sure, the cream of the planets... resurrection
 Verse Two:
 A prophet, raised among black disciples and Vice Lords
 Who don't give a fuck about mic cords and nice swords
 get up, together black risk your cup
 I'm wishin for a change, my man want his change in a cup
 Yessir, I'm in the Mix-a-Lot
 Bitches put em on the glass while I'm puttin stickers on they ass
 I rule everything around me like cash
 On the rocks of reality, dreams get smashed
 In jams I M*A*S*H like Alan Alda
 Niggaz nod, they say hey as if I was Little Walter
 Eighty-Seven strip walker taught the code of the area
 by staying, within the barrier
 Exposed to stony stimuli, with that I identify
 Brothers went through my rotate solidify the realness
 Skull-caps, Murf Puffy jacket, Lug boots on
 Steppin to me is like goin to the county being a Neutron
 Verse Three:
 I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike
 When in dim light
 I use insight to enlight
 Device up in da skin tight
 Words of wisdom wail from my windpipe
 Imaginations in flight
 I send light, like Ben's kite I've been bright
 Get open like on gym nights
 And in fights I send rights
 Don't hook with skins my friends like
 I spend nights up in dykes
 I've been indicted as a freak of all trades
 I got it made
 I bathe in basslines, rinse in riffs, dry in drums
 Come from a tribe of bums
 Hooked on negro and mums
 Had to halt with the, malt liquor
 Cause off the malt liquor I fought niggaz
 Now my speech and thoughts quicker
 Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker
 U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker
 Eighty-Seven got my back and we don't get no thicker
 Chicago got my back and we don't now check it
 I'm a ho but not a ho nigga
 Ain't scared of no nigga
 But it's my turn to go I gotta go
 And I'm gone with the storm