Two Scoops of Raisins

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Common Sense

Common Sense is a 47-page pamphlet written by Thomas Paine in 1775–1776 advocating independence from Great Britain to people in the Thirteen Colonies. Writing in clear and persuasive prose, Paine collected various moral and political arguments to encourage common people in the Colonies to fight for egalitarian government. It was published anonymously on January 10, 1776, at the beginning of the American Revolution and became an immediate sensation. It was sold and distributed widely and read aloud at taverns and meeting places. In proportion to the population of the colonies at that time (2.5 million), it had the largest sale and circulation of any book published in American history. As of 2006, it remains the all-time best-selling American title and is still… more »

Year:

1992

5:29

213 Views

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Yo man, I'm hungry man 
Hey what chu want man? You want some breakfast or somethin'? 
I want a lil' lil' somethin' yeah yea milk and cereal or somethin'
Somethin' man! Just a little breakfast food ya know? 
Mm I don't know man (ay) let's see what I got in my cabinet 
Hold on let me see what I got in my cabinet 
Somebody hit me with a little, baseline or groove, knamsayin'? 
Yeah, breakfast food, uh 

When you wish 
When you wish 
Upon a star 
Upon a star 
To follow what? 
To follow what? 
And where you are! 
And where you are! 
Party over here, party over there 
Where? 

Look! I made ya look, ya dirty crook 
Then picked your pocket, watch me book
Like Guinness I'm a menace, so call me hip-hop's Dennis 
So open wide, and say (ah) 
And I'ma slide my yolk, in your throat, and watch ya choke 
On the uh the ah the uh the daddy long-stroke 

Stroke Long Daddy Money, if my name was Sunny 
I'd share a scoop, runnin' shit like Rebels 
You can call me Barney, cause I took your Fruity Pebbles 
Dibble like an office on Top Cat, top that, I'm fat troop 
Drop the loop, then a scooper hoop ya like a hula 
To school a fool I present, a church to repent 
I get you Guess'n like jeans, you're just a hill of beans 
I'm all that jazz, and I kick, kick, kick, kick

The razzmatazz oh please oh please just give me just one more blast 
I get off like Prince, but I don't have to show my ass 
Pass the rest, like a test, if you slip then you'll get ripped 
With your handicapped pass route, and "Tales From the Crypt"
I whip on that ass like base ba-bay 
The Sense is good-goobley-goo, ask Gravy 

Or LaMont, or Rollo, down at the, Apollo 
Come follow me now (BO! Where's Sue?) I don't know 
Even En Vogue, be tellin' me ya don't go 
When it's time for show (yea) everyone says 
Ho (ho) ho (ho) couldn't be a slider 
Cause I never slip, kick it like a Damme Van flip 
So don't come with your judo, cause you're just a Menudo 
Emcee gettin' chewed like vegetables 

Ah cabbage is a cabbage, a lettuce is a lettuce 
I'ma tear this whole joint into scraps 
I bust raps, perhaps caps, and trap the wack tracks 
Givin' the max, for the minimum, not the minimum for the max 
Get more sex than Wilt the Stilt so you can call me the Stiltest 
You're takin' shorts like Arnold, so what chu talkin bout, Willis? 

Bout Willis? 
Yeah Willis 
Willis ain't talkin' about nothin'! 
It's Different Strokes 
Let's get back to um, breakfast foods 
Because it's, early in the mornin'

Well you can have your Wheaties 
You can have your Flakes 
You can have your Kix 
And you can have your Trix 
You can have your Pound cakes 
You can have your Loops 
But you still gotta get your Two Scoops! 

To keep the hot raw, I'm rollin', rollin'
Bowlin' spare me! Fuss ya hushed mouth mush 
Lush alcohol's excessive like a Jefferson 
Movin' on up, progressive 
One time for your brain, cell 
And when I get through, you say, aw hell man! 
Styles that I free won't, stop til the end 
Paper I go on and go on with the pen 
Get a max of funk, attack or sunk *huff, huff* 
One blow, and emcees are gone with the wind 
Kickin' the dumber rhyme, I'm not a print 
But I'm fresh, heatin' up like the summertime, summer rhyme 
I'm a dime a dozen, but I keep you buzzin' 
Like a bee, a dozen attempts is in the toilet 
Cause I flush the dime and I'm not a Leader 
Cause I Busta Rhyme, a rhyme 
If I kick with Rakim, you +Run For Cover+ brother 
But I kick it with Petey cause I'm just another mother (sucker) 
Blo' Pop time (it's Blo' Pop time) 
It's Blo Pop time (it's Blo' Pop time) 
In the mix, the dimension, J.B., and Chico 
It's seven, not six, my shirt extra-large 
But I wear, I wear I wear it well like DeBarge 
To the finish, makin' ya eye pop, like you ain't spinach 
Then it's, time to let you know 
We count it up, one two three and fo' 

Uh! Count it up 
Nah we gon' count it down 
Nah man, we're gonna count it up 
Mm, let's get back to that umm, food tip though, the breakfast tip 
Food tip? Well you just check 
Cause you know what we need 
What can I have? 

You can have your Life 
You can have your Bran 
You can have your Puffs 
You can have your Pebbles 
You can have your Krunch 
And you can have your Loops 
But you still gotta get your Two Scoops! 

Around and round and upside down and upside down we go 
Whoa! I'ma sneak in the front row 
Not Jethro, I'm not a Jethro, on skid row 
I don't wear Monie's hat, but I was a monkey in the middle
Hey diddle diddle, you can Kibble a Bit 
I take a squat, and booty M-C's be sayin' oh shit!
Yo, I turn Bucktown into Fucktown 
You're just a field goal kid, and I'm a touchdown 
With the next point to the next joint, so tell Spike about it 
I'm all that, that your bitch be writin' home about it 
Shout it out, praise the Lord, hallelujah! 
This could be love, but um, don't let em fool ya 
Cause when I do ya, come down come down after me come 
Yeah sorry Sugar Plums but um, I gotta run 
Run Jesse Run, keep hope alive 
I'm down with the B-boys, f*ck the Jackson 5 
You jive-ass turkey, a-pit-apitta-a-aperk be 
You can get ill, but don't, hurt me, hurt me
Or urk me, cause see I'll outsmart you like the Urkel 
B-boys at the school of hard knocks, in a circle 
Pass the sess blunt, yeah stud, you ain't know? 
I want to go bang, I said, bang-o, bang-oh bang-oh 
Or bojangle jingle jangle on the jaw 
Hip-hip, hooray, oh now you want to be all lovable? 
Don't push or pull, or you'll see, I'ma wreck it out 
MC's be checkin' in but they don't be checkin' out 
I leave em out on the canvas 
So click your heels twice and take your ass back to Kansas

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