歌：Common

作詞：L.Lynn, E.Wilson

作曲：L.Lynn, E.Wilson

発売：2009-10-24 12:21:21

"Come on, let's get started
Don't listen to that street talk
That street talk is dead
Don't be talkin' is dead
You ain't got no basketball in your hand, I want to shoot it out
You got to go somewhere else"

Come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on

(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)

Yo, yo, check
Unattached and calm, sundaes and pills I palm
With intentions to make it to the league
Intrigued by two letter cars, SE's and GS's
On the court niggas I leave like messages
Plagued by this ball-player exorcist
It's sort of foul how the world be roughin' us
Kenny is our Moses in this five-on-five Exodus
For the game of life, full courts ain't preppin' us
Schools want me, but the ghost of Mango haunts me
Plus they wanna crib me, way out in the country
I'm city like street lights and some games that be fights
Never worked on my left so it's hard to be right
Either rich, poor or Mike is who I wanna be like
Story of many black males that I refuse to rewrite

Come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on

(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)

Yo, brothers opinions is biased, slanted
That I'll end up like Ben Wilson, still some pretend to be friends
Beneath the grin I see the gin spoke up and assurer
More so than my soul, my jump shot is purer
People play juror, I witness the fall of legends
Once was the joint now they restin' got a God given present
My gallant talent is like a magic
Trick turned by a chick with a bad habit
Opportunity to move I grab it
Me and my moms have static, now I wreak Hennessey and
havoc
Man to man talks with Kenny, send me to a zone
Been on my own for so long, my vocal tone's grown
Competition gets blown like speakers
When I cross her like Jesus out of bleachers, broads and
beepers
Yeah I boogey it's all good, but it could be better
Want to stay eighteen forever
But now I stay on point like Rod in this Strickland
If Brooklyn courts was the canvas
Then I would be the big man

Come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on

(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)

From thoughts that pennies bring
I assemble teams like the Kenny Kings
Think fast over breaks, dialect I'm dribbling
Remembering, night posters of Moses and the Supreme Court
Realizing that rap and life are team sports
I follow deep thoughts
Moves never perceived thought lyrical Johnny Cochran
Cause of the way I free thought
The system make a nigga think to make it that he need sports
Or either to the tip he gotta resort
My seed'll be taught to start his own
In the, George Carter zone
Don't wanna be a dope MC living in his momma's home
Or speaking to my fans in a starving artist tone
Unknown zones I roam with mind architecture
Spark the lecture, emphasizing to let God direct ya

Come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on

(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)
(I don't expect you to be some one else that you're not)
(All I expect you to give is all you got)