Roy Hargrove - Style lyrics

Yeah, this is the truth Common Sense, wit Tony Touch It's the type of music we be From Chicago to New York I ain't move, I'm just movin' crowds baby Yo yo check it Supreme life, I seen light at the end of the path Beginning wit math, stumbled, found a gym in a half Cognac, pimps, Hennessey's resemble my dad Went to, the School of Hard Knocks, it's hard to remember the staff From the land of sh**-talk Point stars and pitch forks, this ain't a game, only a b**h barks The streets is stayin hard, peoples tryin to out-think God Tradin crack for link cards Heavy, so I sleep hard and breathe eye accounts In this paper marathon, meditatin to tapes of Farrakhan And Seravon, sharin songs wit broads, I know they need it It's like I'm Eldrige Cleaver wit my mind set on cleavage Reachin for the heavens since the bliss fell from the elevated, I speak Wit Technics like a 1200 Black males wanted, the sign of the times Read: one for project prisons wanted dead I sped to the light, my realness bled through the mic Like Marvin, I'm willing to save the children givin lead to the night It was written but untold Some hold the scroll in the hearts, the truth is told in the arts Like old school to park, my thoughts connect No longer is it impeach the president or break to mic check I circumcised the clouds, wit thoughts that raise your third eyebrow 'cause the sun is my child, bloaw Yeah it's Com Sense, Tony Touch Peace to my god NO ID, yeah why-Not, Dug Infinite, Sean Lett We just bringin it to why'all Chicago style to New York And we travellin all over the world, peace