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[J Dilla:] Madlib turn the strings up My knuckleheads, put them things with the beams up You won't need your heat this time around I spits fire, it's like the rounds are rounds In a big ass block of the bitch-ass niggaz Who wan' hate, cause they don't get cash with us But they really on Jay and Mad dilznick If you want the truth then that's just it Them sick cause I slipped they chick this magic stick We all act, can we get them balls back I keeps it simple as well as complicated Jaylib for service, just compensate us I'm tryin to cop the Maker's and hop up in the latest whips Caked rockin gators It's P.I., D.I. and L.I.B. Better know what the hell I bring, it's fire [scratched in samples:] "Real game out here man, knahmsayin" "The name is Dilla dog" "For gosh sakes, what a nigga gotta do" [J Dilla:] Now let me speak on these journalists Only the ones who need to learn and listen Letras de cancionesBefore they criticize verses that burns kitchens Live from the land of Hearns and Pistons You heard me~? ! Beats and rhymes so dirty Play it too loud and you'll feel a burn where you pissin Up, my nigga turn the motherfuckin strings up The ultimate link-up, about to cha-ching up Jaylib baby don't forget the name How you want it, Beemer four-fifth or Range Come see the Dilla lay with the fifth Maybe you can write an article about how Jay play with them whips And who said producers ain't supposed to rap They don't want the Ruger to bang well close your traps Better not run them jibs or fibs no more We pullin plugs so haters [gunshots] [Outro:] Now, I know all y'all been all around And dug damn near everything that goes down And you know a nigga will brag and look clean And I don't give a damn what happen, he's always on the scene It ain't too much that pass a nigga's eyes But he's a motherfucker, that's no lie [laughter and applause] I know when y'all leave, y'all y'all gon' smoke that weed Especially them niggaz from Compton, they don't smoke nothin BUT some weed They'll pass that damn mall, no shit Say you can have a whole ounce of weed, that's right I tried that shit, I smoked a joint last night That shit improves your eyesight too, don't it so, shit On a clear day I can see them countin that yang money over in Vietnam No shit~! On a cloudy day I can see them jokers in New York I was so fucked up the other night I dialed the operator I said hey operator, give me head, long dick The bitch hung up on me I dialed right back I said hey operator I said gimme head on long distance She said well drop a dime nigga that's a local call [live concert sound not part of the song for the last 30 seconds] From Letras Mania