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The Diary
by
J Dilla
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[?] Yea, yea, what's the deal-y? My nigga Dilla For life, McNasty records, uh, yea [J Dilla] I come from a long line of pimps, hustlers, soldiers and thugs With 7 Mile in the vain and soul through the blood From a place called the Mo, dawg For most of my niggas can't hold a job but they can hold them a gun Born and raised in the heart of this bitch My father done started this shit I've started spinning parties at 6 Blessed with the hardest of kicks from Jay with the magic And my uncle used to be in the attic Sc-Scr-Scratching He used to hit the weed and then pass it Damn, look at me with the habit Look at me counting my scratch speeding through traffic Uh, but, the flow is colder than the floor in the cell So bring your weed I got a story to tell [?] Yea, my nigga Dilla has been in the game for years you know what I mean? Respect the game It's all real so yo, it's time to kick up baby [J Dilla] You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (Gangsta, Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (Gangsta, Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (Gangsta, Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (Gangsta, Dilla)
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