[Chorus – ×4:]
And you say, “Chi-City!”
We don't stop, naw, we don't quit!
[Verse 1:]
I rap with the passion of Christ, nigga, cross me,
Took it out of space and niggas thought they lost me,
I'm back like a chiroprac with b-boy survival rap,
It ain't ninety-four, Joe, we can't go back.
The game need a makeover,
My man retired, I'ma takeover,
Tell these halftime niggas break's over,
I'm raw, hustlas, get your baking soda.
Too many rape the culture,
Leave rappers with careers and they faith over,
It's a war goin' on, you can't fake bein' a soldier,
In the basement listeninэ to tapes of Ultra-
Magnetic, to the fact the messiah is black,
I'll turn the TV down, we can take it higher than that,
I wonder if these whack niggas realize they whack,
And they the reason that my people say they tired of rap.
Inspired by black Muslims and Christians,
Pushin' cutlasses, dope and other traditions
In the conditions of the city, the city,
The city, the city, the city, the city, come on!
[Chorus – ×4:]
And you say, “Chi-City!”
We don't stop, naw, we don't quit!
[Verse 2: Common]
A black figure in the middle with chaos and gunfire,
So many raps about rims, surprised niggas ain't become tires,
On the street you turn cold and then go screech,
I tell 'em “fuck 'em” like I do to police.
The beast is runnin' rampant,
I'm in between sheets tryna have sex, that's tantric,
For the ghetto tryna make a get-up stand-up anthem,
You spit hot garbage, son of Sanford.
What you rappin' for, to get fame or get rich?
I slap a nigga like you, and tell him, “Rick James, bitch!”
With your Hollywood stories, on porches
We polly hood stories about who became rich.
And whatever light they hit, we wanna hit the same switch,
You didn't know where to aim it, you still remain bitch,
I'm forever puttin' words together,
Some'll sever mothers from daughters and fathers from sons,
The name Com, has never been involved with run,
Unless it's DMC, or runnin' these broads to being free,
I'm harder than the times, you hardly scary,
Holdin' gats inside, you cats is Halle Berry.
They ask me where hip-hop is goin', it's Chicagoan,
Poetry's in motion like a picture now showin',
It's the city, the city, y'all, the city,
Uh, the city, y'all, come on!
[Chorus – ×7:]
And you say, “Chi-City!”
We don't stop, naw, we don't quit!
Common Sense from the city of wind.
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