Intro:      Yo Troy I'ma come on the rhythm   with a little bit of Communism   Yeah, hah   So check it out, yeah      Chick-a chick-a I'm   Chick-a chick-a on   Chick-a chick-a my   my, own shit   Like an entrepeneur, that stepped in maneur   man I'm newer than a Jack I went up the hill with Jill   And Jack Jill's big bootay   We did the booty up, I told the Bitch she Betta Have My Money   or step to the AMG   You know Com Sense, oh yeah him be   That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds   But since then, Common calm down!   I'm on some calm shit watch Com get complicated   Simple motherfuckers say the way that Com communicated   was too complex, I got a complex not to complain   on my brain no complain and so will my community   And I prefer compliments   So I complement at an angle, of ninety degrees   It's the ninties, and music got known for grease   I got a sense of direction and a compass   Come passed MC's with no compassion, though I heard the screams of   But I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort   Commiserate at the fort with Jeff I'm so ill   But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals   Now Com can get the panty, but I want my own company   And Com is on a mission not to work for commission   It's a common market and it's so much competition   but to me, competition is none   To my comp I'm a ton I get amped like Watts in a riot   my compact disc is a commodity, so buy it   Instead of competing with Pete   Com compromised, Com made a promise   Not to commercialize, but compound the soul   without the elements, compelling sense into Communism