[Verse 1: Common]
Night glows, stoves don't work, hoes at work,
A warrior, so I wear 'em on my shirt,
Wish I was free as Che was, I spend a day buzzed,
Trippin' on heights, wishin' for Nikes in different flavors.
The age of caine and Big Daddy, shown by the Caddies,
Uncles named Larry that never really grabbed me,
My mother gave birth but she really never had me,
Left to the hood to play daddy,
Raised by niggas named Butch, Scoot or Bae-Bae
With waists so they weigh they status on the streets.
License plates that say they motto,
This is Chicago in the hay day,
Similar to Good Times, I guess that I was J. J.,
A skinny nigga, young girls with Penny figures.
So many niggas stacked upon each other,
It's the black upon each other that we love so much,
Wonder, how many of us these drugs gonna touch,
Used to gangbang, ain't really thug that much,
Rather have some thick broads then the Dutch to clutch.
Went to school in Baton Rouge for a couple of years,
My college career got downed with a couple of beers,
Came back home, now I gotta pay back loans,
Same nigga, same block, same shit they own,
Only thing different, quicker they click that chrome.
In my defence, yo, I had to hit that zone,
Man to man, I'm good workin' with my hands,
My generation never understood workin' for the man,
And of bein' broke I ain't a fan,
Now I stand in the same spot as my old man,
My life, I planned not to be on this corner,
I still wanna see California,
But this is my world.
[Chorus: Bilal]
It's your world!
[Verse 2: Common]
Life and death flow around us,
Four pounds and pounds of bird from out-of-towners,
It's hard to stay grounded,
We stay high, that's why old folks down us.
Lost, nobody found us, the force that surrounds us
Ain't with us, they get us on the ground and hit us,
We paint pictures of the chains under their names and scriptures
Removed from Earth, only to return through birth.
Knew this girl sellin' her body, wish she knew what it was worth,
Between God and trash lookin' in every car that pass,
With a walk that suggests head, to milk niggas, she was breastfed.
She know dairy so she say ‘cheese' to get bread
In the area where it's more weaves and less dreads.
Kinda scary, amongst thieves and baseheads,
Said it was her toes, but I could tell her soul hurt.
She was cold turk', growin' up she got to know hurt
Very well in a world where self-hate is overt,
Her stepfather thought he was Ike, so her mother he strike,
She got to like like-minded niggas, who liked crimes and figures,
Doin' white lines and liquor, see hard times had kicked her
In the ass, it used to be thicker.
Life is fast, some choose to be quicker,
I remember in high school she had a passion to sing,
Now she see herself in a casket in dreams,
These are the children of crack and rap, blacks that lack,
Self-esteem, yo, we forgot the dream.
On our Jeffersons, y'all, but we forgot the theme,
In the Chi we even rootin' for a garbage team,
This queen never seen herself on this corner,
She still wanna see California,
But this is her world.
[Chorus: Bilal]
It's your world!
[The Kids:]
I wanna be a pediatrist.
I wanna be a governor.
I want to be an artist.
I want to be a veterinarian.
I wanna be a model.
I wanna be a doctor.
I wanna be a football player.
I wanna be a astronaut.
I wanna be an obstetrician.
I wanna be a doctor.
I wanna be a nurse.
I want to be a fashion designer.
I wanan be a gym teacher.
I wanna be a duck.
I wanna be a wrestler.
I wanna be a dancer.
I wanna be the first African American female President.
I wanna be a police officer.
I wanna be a rock star.
I wanna be a gymnastic teacher.
I wanna be a captain of a police station.
I wanna be a drummer.
I wanna be a superstar.
[Lonnie Lynn:]
Be, be here, be there, be that, be this.
Be grateful for life, be grateful to life.
Be gleeful everyday, for being the best swimmer among 500,000.
Be nign, be you, be mom's mean pie, be little black sambo with bad hair.
Be aware of Willie Lynch's, be, be boundless energy.
Be a four star ghetto general, be no one except I.
Be a strong academic student, be an A student in sociology.
Be food for thought to the growing mind, be the author of your own horoscope.
Be invited, be long-living, be forgiving, be not forgetful.
Be a proud run, only to return to fight another day.
Be peaceful if possible, but justice at any rate.
Be high when you low, be on time, but know when to go.
Be cautious of the road to college, taking a detour through Vietnam or the Middle East.
Be absent of wars at any past or present fought amongst themselves.
Be visual of foreclosure over your shoulder while begging.
A nation built on free labor for reparation, be a cartographer,
Be a map-maker, be able to find Afro-American land,
Search thoroughly, it may be close to black land.
Be amended 5/5ths, be amended 5/5ths human.
Be the owner of more land than is set aside for wild life.
Be Cupid to world government.
Be found among the truth, lost tribe.
Be at full strength when walking through the valley.
Be not foolish as temporary king of the mountain top.
Be a brilliant soul, sparkling in the galaxy while walking on earth.
Be loved by God as much as God loved Gandhi and Martin Luther King.
Be that last one of 144,000, be the resident of that twelfth house.
Be eternal...
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