Common - Nobody’s Smiling lyrics
rate me(Hook x4)
Don’t stop getting that chop
Man on the spot, melee out here
(Verse)
I’m from Chicago, nobody’s smiling, niggas wyling on Stoney Island
Where the chief and the president come from
Pop out, pop pills, pop guns on the deck when the ops come
Pop some, ops mind, this ain’t a game nigga, ain’t no options
Nigga sellin' on the block like a auction
Dig into my pockets, see a profit
Where the money and the bitch is, is where the guys is
Godfathers in the lodges, at the spot holding money like a hostage
She went ostrich, from the projects with posture
I draw with the goddess like an artist
Getting paper with no margins, money gods
I do it for Hadiya and Trayvon Martin, yo
(Hook x4)
Don’t stop getting that chop
Man on the spot, melee out here
(Verse)
In the Shy ain't a damn thing funny, thinkin' of ways to get money
Drive down Lake Shore, schemin' how to make more
If we ain’t eating together what is this cake for?
Ain’t nobody giving it, that’s what we take for
Niggas is broke, what I need to brake for?
Glaciers of ice, lazers and lice
Let the chains glow heavy, we paid for 'em twice
Made for the life, all out like we outta rounds
Bars and guns, niggas got a lot of rounds
Trippin' like you from outta town
The four pound will leave you on the ground without a sound
Ain’t no fathers round, sons of Anarchy
Fighting attempts, trafficking, and grand larceny
At the party with the t.h.o.t.s, with the extra body
I’m in the inner city, it’s an out of body - experience
(Hook x8)
Don’t stop getting that chop
Man on the spot, melee out here
(Verse)
Face on t-shirts with no hashtags
Just big ass trash bags tagged hash
Out here shit been trill
Fake ass gangsta quick to take a fag’s cash
Five versus six, Star Wars
No stickers, real bullet holes in car doors
Out of ten people that was shot, 7 ate .9’s
Two trey .8’s, and one .45
Tryna get two threes, the numbers gang
Then here come the fame
But they won’t say no names
Are these celebrities way too shy to be loyal to the town?
I take my publishing check and spread my royalties around
Popes, bishops, disciples, stones
Counts, princes, lords, queens and kings
They drillin' on my land but there ain't no oil to be found
I might be part of the problem
I guess they just tryna prove they can back that shit up
Most of them can’t even moonwalk
My little cousin Bump J. don’t know what he did when he introduced that goon talk
Is there a Scarface castin' at the crib I don’t know about?
So many shawties have tried out for the role
That’s why he slide out and ride out with the pole
Now I see how my daddy felt the dark day he discovered
That black power didn't keep the lights on
Right on, the dearly departed still rappin' till you
Lookin' for some yellow, white, red, black, brown flesh to write on
How long will they mourn me after I’m out of mind, out of sight, gone?
A crash, a head on collision affects both riders the most
Good. music in the building, yeah, we got ghost writers
They just actually ghosts
