No I.D. - Nobody's Smiling lyrics

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No I.D. - Nobody's Smiling lyrics

[Hook x4] [?] don't stop [?] their trap Hand in the pot Baby, that'll do it [Verse 1: Common] I'm from Chicago, nobody's smiling n***as 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 run This ain't a game n***a, ain't no options n***a selling on the block like an auction Dig into my pockets, see a profit Where the money and the b**hes 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 [Hook][x4] [Verse 2: Common] In the Chi ain't a damn thing funny Thinking of ways to get money Drive down Lake Shore, scheming 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 n***as 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, fall out like we out of bounds Bars and guns, n***as got a lot of rounds Tripping like you from out of 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 thots with the extra body I'm in the inner city, it's an out of body experience [Hook][x8] [Verse 3: Malik Yusef] Face on T-shirts with no hashtags Just big a** trash bags tagged hash Out here sh** been trill Fake a** gangster, quick to take a f*g'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 to 23, numbers game 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 drilling on my land but ain't no oil to be found I might be part of the problem I guess they just tryna prove they can back that sh** 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 casting at the crib I don't know about? So many shortys 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 rapping to you Looking 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 G.O.O.D. music in the building, yeah we got ghost writers They just actually ghosts