Artist: Common f/ Pharrell
Album:  Universal Mind Control
Song:   Announcement
Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com

[Intro: Common]
I'm finna take it the tip-top, baby
I'm finna take it to the tip-top, baby
I'm finna take it to the tip-top, baby

[Chours: Common]
Everybo-dy, I'd like to announce
Throw ya hands up when we in the house
Yeah, this is hip-hop, baby
I'm finna take it to the tip-top, baby
And tell ya girl that the tickets is out
And we gon' do this 'til they kickin us out (what)
Cause, this is hip-hop, baby
I'm finna take it to the tip-top, baby

[Common]
Live from the Southside-est one, hide ya gun
Representin Chi-Town to the fullest, raps are bullets 
See them rappers? They be duckin
When Com be buckin in the kitchen, fuckin
On the sink, got my momma a mink
ThinkCommon is the link, thought the game was extinct
Laaaaa-dy~! Them jeans is as +Slim+ as +Shady+
Brought 'em back from the 80's, now let's make some babies
Freestyle paid off, so Lincoln paid me
Now we can push more links than slavery
Alex Haley of this rap shit, my +Roots+ is deep
You heard +The Bitch in Yoo+, yeah I know +What's Beef+
Let it cook and I pop like grease
You thirsty niggaz can't shot my feast - UH!
...+I Still Love H.E.R.+, she be needin a dick
When it come to hip-hop, it's just +Me & My Bitch+, uh

[Chorus]

[Pharrell {rhyming in the style of The Notorious B.I.G.}]
Baaay-bay, you're like, "What the, fuck?" There is no other
Valet crashed my Rose, so I quickly bought another
Sorry, Mr. Willi-am, moved out the building
New spot, to the top, fifty feet was the ceil-i-ing
(Slow down son, you're killin 'em) Well-funded, it was not
Cane step, shitty bills, reminisce and give me chills
When Puff was with Biggie, Versace on every niggy
The backpacker copped the Porsche and drove through a city
Now all the little bit-ties, from ugly to pret-ty
I was the magician, mesmerized and made 'em missin
My dick is like a Blow Pop, baby!
And it gets stiffer than some Botox, baby!
But show out baby, and show me ye ain't gon' act right
And I'll be peddlin backwards, like a track bike
She ain't know the Casio cost a hundred
It's been two years since I've done it, now all the rappers want it
Whaaaat!

[Chorus]

[Common]
As I sit back, relax, with Chicago on my back
Unzip, the backpack, pull out a fifth of 'gnac
I'll probably go to jail for - naw, that ain't me!
I style crazy and +Net+ like Jay-Z
The black Kojak, I +Get Money+ and want mo' stacks
The rap photographer, the way the flow stop
Broads say, "Are you a philosopher?"
Yeah yeah, I philosophy on top of ya
Uh!

[Chorus]