"Common" lyrics
AR Beats (AR Beats)
Me and my, me and my
Uh, uh
Me and my yeah got a lot in common
We're both 22, we both spill juice
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
I done ching man out of his boots
But I ain't the type to go talk up news
Studs covered in mud, it's true
I love being seen, not heard, that too
I already know how to grip and shoot
Way before I laid down tracks at booth
If your ting went click but it did not rip
Then hand it to me, I might know what to do
I ain't got not one screw, I'm loose
Tarnish friends if you can't get you
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
You weren't at Central, you weren't at Whitgift
You weren't Wandle, so how would I know?
I ain't never been hashtag O
Same way I'm at Yellow Brick smoking a stoke
Folks said jump in the ride, let's slide
I left my phone and said let's go
I bought my knife, he didn't know
I shouldn't tape Tennyson Road
I went and found another plug
The one that has, tryna talk 'bout drought
Ching ching, ying ying
There's a war outside, stay in the house
Came to the crib, she ready to fuck, suck
She knows how to use her mouth
Ran up a hunnid, my pocket stuffed
So I don't give a fuck what they're talking about
I don't give one fuck about my career
Don't give two fucks 'bout charted tracks
Platinum Plaques, I'm tryna cop a McButton
To see how the ting go smack
I'm ryna chane my life for the better
My pops said that I made a change for the worse
I know what death feels like
I was laid in a coffin, so I ain't afraid of no hearse
Me and my yeah got a lot in common
We're both 22, we both spill juice
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
I done ching man out of his boots
But I ain't the type to go talk up news
Studs covered in mud, it's true
I love being seen, not heard, that too
I already know how to grip and shoot
Way before I laid down tracks at booth
If your ting went click but it did not rip
Then hand it to me, I might know what to do
I ain't got not one screw, I'm loose
Tarnish friends if you can't get you
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
Me and my, me and my
Uh, uh
Me and my yeah got a lot in common
We're both 22, we both spill juice
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
I done ching man out of his boots
But I ain't the type to go talk up news
Studs covered in mud, it's true
I love being seen, not heard, that too
I already know how to grip and shoot
Way before I laid down tracks at booth
If your ting went click but it did not rip
Then hand it to me, I might know what to do
I ain't got not one screw, I'm loose
Tarnish friends if you can't get you
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
You weren't at Central, you weren't at Whitgift
You weren't Wandle, so how would I know?
I ain't never been hashtag O
Same way I'm at Yellow Brick smoking a stoke
Folks said jump in the ride, let's slide
I left my phone and said let's go
I bought my knife, he didn't know
I shouldn't tape Tennyson Road
I went and found another plug
The one that has, tryna talk 'bout drought
Ching ching, ying ying
There's a war outside, stay in the house
Came to the crib, she ready to fuck, suck
She knows how to use her mouth
Ran up a hunnid, my pocket stuffed
So I don't give a fuck what they're talking about
I don't give one fuck about my career
Don't give two fucks 'bout charted tracks
Platinum Plaques, I'm tryna cop a McButton
To see how the ting go smack
I'm ryna chane my life for the better
My pops said that I made a change for the worse
I know what death feels like
I was laid in a coffin, so I ain't afraid of no hearse
Me and my yeah got a lot in common
We're both 22, we both spill juice
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
I done ching man out of his boots
But I ain't the type to go talk up news
Studs covered in mud, it's true
I love being seen, not heard, that too
I already know how to grip and shoot
Way before I laid down tracks at booth
If your ting went click but it did not rip
Then hand it to me, I might know what to do
I ain't got not one screw, I'm loose
Tarnish friends if you can't get you
They keep asking me who I fuck with
But I don't know these new plate yutes
Writer(s): Isaiah Kyrell Sampson
