| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
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"You out there? LOUDER! "
"Well clap your hands to what he's doing" [scratching] Ladies and gentlemen, direct from... California Ladies and gentlemen Ladies and gentlemen, direct from Detroit, Michigan Direct from... California Ladies and gentlemen, direct from Detroit, Michigan Direct from... California Direct... [evil laughter] |
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| 2. |
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| 3. |
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[17 seconds of samples]
What, I just wanna lay you back Nah, you ain't gotta count my stack Nah, it ain't goin down like that Damn yo' ass is fat I just wanna hit it, and quit it, if it's on like that If I ever have to call your back Cause you got a man, and I got a woman But one ain't enough I need more to keep me comin And I'm, runnin away, cause it's time to play Nowadays chickenheads all wanna date a DJ MC, sport star, nigga with some mo-ney That means locked down... girl laugh like that shit's funny I wish some of these broads cooked better than they look Cause nowadays, they get you hooked, overbooked 'til you shook Niggaz look, and learn for your own concern These broads heatin shit up on mosh I burn Down in the projects, or even up in the hills Shit's real, these women want money and deals... Yeah, get paid "Now you know how it is brothers and sisters When two brothers and sisters get to fightin Them motherfuckers get killed! Damn right How they go at your ass for BLOOD! You better damn believe it baby They don't fight like they're fightin a stranger No they're fightin to kill baby And that's a damn shame, cause that... " Nowadays your boy probably tryin to hit your girl While you tryin to work to buy the hoe diamonds and pearls Fo' sho'~! It goes down like the girl on her knees Tryin to please every nizzle gettin drunk smokin trees While you 9 to 5, 'bout to 25 to life it That hoe on some sheist shit, cause you find out how trife it's The way it is, all she wanna do is swallow kids This hollow dip's out to lunch all up on a trip A nigga like me ain't even got time for it Cause I ain't givin up shit unless I want to give it Niggaz slave to the grave from the weak down to the brave Smart to the stupid gettin stuck by Cupid Nowadays, clock G's, ain't got time for deez Fake dumber than Louise, even though they OOH-WEE! Nowadays, nowadays niggaz smile in your face Havin friends is a waste, detrimental like a nigga ten pace Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five... Four... (YEAH!) three... two... ONE! Yeah, uhh, here we go c'mon Yeah, yeah, yeah |
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| 4. |
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"This one is hot and shizzling! "
[Verse 1: Dilla] Get up in it... (What!) Start her up... (What!) Get her washed dogg, primiarmourup! (What!) Big wheels, cadillac grilled up... (What!) Keep your Esc cause daddys got the Dilla... (What!) Custom, plus them... (What!) 22's but you say what's them? (What!) 3rd row, square 10's... (What!) I let the bass hit so they wear in... (What!) So loud, (What!) roll out... (What!) Tint the windows with the of hydro cloud... (What!) Big trucks, best when it's cold out... (What!) Hear me pulling up in front of yo' house... (What!) When I hops in, it gets to choppin' All jeep nigga's keep it knockin'... (What!) [Verse 2: Dilla] (What!) (What!) (What!) (What!) Yea, come alive nigga's, ugh Here we go... (What!) Another Chapter... (What!) I ain't lickin no, neck no back... (What!) Better get my nuts, my sac... (What!) Whether in my truck, my pad... (What!) My live thug nigga's no what I mean... (What!) A live bitch that's what I need... (What!) And I ain't about to spend no money on her... (What!) Nothing mo' than a hundred on her... (What!) To the stripper and runnin on her... (What!) In a minute I'll be cummin on her... (What!) That's it... like that quick... (What!) Dilla Dawg, Madlib that shit! (What!) |
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| 5. |
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(feat. Jay-Dee & Madlib)
[Verse 1:] [Jaylib:] "Yo man you here dat you here dat shit man" [Madlib:] Like what the fuck is this Hey look at this what kinda luck is this (Haack) Uh Madlib and Dilla is the illest my niggaz Only haters holler they can't feel us Wanna get looser then we? But just gonna be a looser to me and dilla(ha) Killa, Talkin bout how you kill cops, you softer then a pillow Backslapin' ya neck while you covered in rep? Cause you bluffin and you ain't said nothin to spec? Anyway I'm straight high off the trees Your girl don't wanna lie she's gonna get on a niggaz dick Turn It up, y'all niggaz must be outta head If ya sister made it up to the bed? [Verse 2:] [Jay Dee:] "Yo what was that you said right there what was that? " [Madlib:] Mr Leadway Instant Replay Instant Relay Instant Mc, Producer, and DJ I do this shit without a cell beeper or three way Your coming off like like a G-lay? "Anyway" Ay, Peace to A.G Peace to Pete Rock, Diamond D, Peace to Sage Oh that nigga Wildlight, Wildlife, Hannibal, Cannibals "WHOOOP What else? " Um, Male Facists, Womanizers, Nymphos, niggaz in disguises " Ah What Else" Fine Women that like Pretty Women Some Fuck Women Some Fuck Woman? "Mostly Fuckin Women" Y'all niggaz must be outta ya head if ya sisters made it up to the bed? |
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| 6. |
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[Martial arts fighting sounds, shit breaking]
{"Heavy" - [echoes]} [J Dilla:] Weigh a ton in this m'uhfucker ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Yeah, heavy bass hittin, from heavyweighters Heavy cake gettin, it's heavy player Every day, another buck, another hustle Cakin up, rake in ducks by the busloads Wakin up, gotta go for the gusto Ain't shit up but showin how to touch mo' All day the show we chase dough Gotta bankroll thick like the dutch stank roll MAN UP~! My real niggaz stand up, let's get ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) And chase that fetti Get big faces, let's get ready ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) So heavy, so cold Might wanna grab that Pelle already it's ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Can't lift it up Dilla Dawg, Madlib 'bout to pick it up [J Dilla:] Get it up, smoke with me weed mayne How them greens layin, twist it and puff Heavy smoke from the spliff in the truck Steady tokin it, I ain't lifted enough, this real ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Heavy off the chronic, straight bubonic Blaze if you got it ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Can't lift it up Dilla Dawg, Madlib 'bout to pick it up And put it down like no other You ain't never heard real live shit, only clones of us Better learn and beware of the firm So hot, play it loud, might get a burn You get it right and you might get your turn If not, as far as I am concerned I'm here to take it back while I make a stack And shut it down for them muh'fuckers fakin jacks [Chorus:] It's real ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Ready for the streets Turn it up, go heavy on the beat this ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Ready for the streets Turn it up, go heavy on the beat this [J Dilla:] Yeah gimme that Big Mac shit, go heavy on the gator With the supersized shake for the haters Mad Dilla, or combo #1 Knock 'em out the box like Apollo did in I To Mini-Mes all that followin is done, it's 'bout to get ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Just like the piece on the chain That swings in the Jeep with the bang it's ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) Can't lift it up Dilla Dawg, Madlib 'bout to pick it up All my live bitches drop it like it's hot bitch Booty wigglin and wobblin while you pop it All that ass in your Ashley Stewarts That's just how McNasty do it Heavy, mo' heav' than Heav' D Rockin the chain to make 'em envy It's still Frank-N-Dank and then me Collab'n with mad to bangin MC's [Chorus] [J Dilla:] Yeah, I told you Weigh a ton in this motherfucker~! ("Heavy heavy heavy heavy... " [echoes]) |
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| 7. |
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| 8. |
| 3:32 |
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[INTRO:]
Now I want everybody to clap your in this place Come on! Yea, tell me something good baby Cause I sho' got something good for you I wanna bring to you, (Yea) My Nigga! J Dilla... one of the most slept on (ok!) Patta Tay, Patta Tay... I'm a sign yo pitty on the runney kine! And pass it to my man [VERSE 1:] J Dilla Holla! Get it, Poppin of from the bottles to the collars Clap hands, nigga... Get live with your mans nigga It's thee Official... hands in the air let me see them wrist glow Turn me up another notch in your system You say you want the hot shit then listen Madlib... and J Deezy Doin it like we doing it for tv And you don't wanna change the dial World premier niggas rearrange your styles Should have never been allowed in the game All ya'll fake gangsters out We shut it down like the enemy I know all my real niggas feeling me Official [BRIDGE:] Time for some real niggas in the game It's, The Official Who let Mad and Dilla in the gate It's Thee Official Bringin that shit since back in the days It's the Official Official [x8] [VERSE 2:] Ok... Out we the old and in with the new shit Quick to tighten the faces Of niggas who catch cases of loose lips Shut tit up... shut tit up! Or see some real live nigga nuttin up! And I don't be around the way Like I used to I don't have time these days I keeping busy makin power moves I don't fuck with them coward dudes I keeps it bouncing when the P.I's wanna Wish for death, I'm C Bronson It's whatever it's however you l Think a nigga trying to move ahead of you then you right We gon take this back, nigga You already know, Jay spit that It's Official Time for some real niggas in the game It's Official Who let Mad and Dilla in the gate It's the Official Bringing that shit since back in the days It's the official Official |
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| 9. |
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Aight now I'm tryin to get this money man
We gotta, get this plan, we gotta make this shit happen right man Knahmsayin? Don't fuck shit up Right? AIGHT? ! God damn! {After the heist takes place} Oh shit man~! All because of cash Fuck, now I'm mashin on the gas Left a nigga with a gash This is worse than the last Man still chasin rainbows now I'm in the 8th position Feelin mad stressed, stuck up on a mission wishin I took a different route, drinkin on Guinness Stout (Man the cops is comin we 'bout to go to jail!) Fuck that, I gotta be out No time to chicken out, all I want to see's my clout Then I go diggin out my honey, celebratin 'til she out {But back to reality! } I got a fatality and this bitch 'bout to rat on me Plus I got this gat on me Blood all splat on me, I fucked up his anatomy This bitch is 'bout to rat on me, plus I got this gat on me (Ay! Somebody's home! Ay) (Ay somebody told me Miss Johnson ratted you better split) Knew it, knew it, knew shit wouldn't work Fuck out this motherfucker Chasin rainbows, adrenaline pumpin Pimpin, drug dealin, gun runnin plus body dumpin Hebron pumpin in my arm for the next heist But I gotta pop lips, even though she looks nice Or else I'm a pay the price, gotta get an alibi Chasin rainbows, where the rain in my hair flows Hell if I, get taken out by some chickenhead, honeydip Over some dough and some Gucci, watch money flip Honey slip, I'm a lie, and say, it was Slick And if not Slick then it was probably Eric {Cause that nigga psycho too! } That's what I'm gon' have to do And that's word on my crew, but if she don't fall for it I'm a go Chuck Norris and be out with Horace Before the cops come for us - run, Forrest Forrest, run, hurry, try! Haul ass nigga Fuck |
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| 10. |
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[Scratching for ten seconds]
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 [scratching for a bit] Yo, wait, now let me speak on these journalists Only the ones who need to learn and listen Before 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 ("can't live no more") [scratching to end] |
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| 12. |
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| 13. |
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| 14. |
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(feat. Percee P)
(A Jaylib exclusive... with MC Percee P) [Percee P:] I come on spittin, the song's hittin Before there were capon chickens different dons listened to me for advice Like I'm John, niggaz just left again, so I'm steppin in To catch wreck and when on my next kin'll be checks to spend that I'm exitin Perc' is nice, worth the price, every verse entice One of the most praised ministers to speak twice on the Earth since Christ Ideas delay of light years away from what's here I dare all my peers to slay Two grand, review and, your whole crew man The true fans, know who can, bring heat like in the Sudan black No games, style is fo{? }, verbal cocaine, like propane I blow brains bashin them no-name cats that flow lame Writes well, recite then there's a chance you might hear In the right air your worser nightmare after a sliced ear Perc' spit every verse with the worst shit known Disperse quit first clique tryin to front get they turf hit blown (Another Bronx to Detroit to L.A. connection for that ass) |
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