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Whatup Dilla
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Mac Miller
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Ya heard? Yo, uh, yo, yo Rest in peace, J Dilla (Yo) rest in peace, J Dilla Yeah, rest in peace, J Dilla (Uh-huh) Yeah, rest in peace, J Dilla (R.I.P.) How High: The Mixtape, Rated R, Diggz, Ill Spoken What up, Dilla? Hope you rest in peace You still speakin' for ya beats when you bless the streets (Uh) Real talk, put your tape on and press repeat So let me kick back, relax and rest my feet Yeah, we can chill, true MC's, they speak it real A lot of fake cats make tracks and break a deal (Pssh) So what the deal? [?] My name is Beedie, let me give you all the introduction The Ill Spoken comin' through for the ill discussion It's somethin' runnin' through the veins, I can feel it rushin' (Uh-huh) Thought it was over but it really wasn't, because we comin' Ain't no one try to ruin our moves until we done it You act bogus, I focus on gettin' cream Grind harder than ya teeth on methamphetamines, what I mean? You cats couldn't rumble with the team 'Cause you couldn't count your numbers, pull you under when you scream Real things: you fiends that gon' touch my cash or puff my grass Blunts mixed with butts and hash Never did well in school, but I love my math Count my stacks every night before I hit the mattress (Yeah) Gettin' cash, sh*t is systematic But don't get mad if ya sh*t get splatted, believe me What's good, y'all? (Yo) My name is Mac You can hear me 'cross the hall while I'm bangin' rap And now ya face is slapped with a dedication track Oh sh*t, that's kinda hard, I ain't erasin' that So rest in peace to the beast on the beat: J Dilla For you, we raise a Miller, hip-hop still feel ya I bust rhymes over melodies [?] And bust spines with each and every punchline (Pow) So how you like me now? This Ill Spoken ground's be around for a while Juggle verses like a circus, turnin' frowns into smiles You see us round town, underground with some [?] Stop talkin' 'bout this and that See me as I kick it back, spittin' rap and fitted caps Smoke an L and hit the sack, askin', "Can you picture that?" Picture-perfect verses 'Cause me and Beedie [?], Ill Spoken at your service Smack you side the head, alert the doctors and the nurses A wallet in your pocket, b*t*hes better hide they purses 'Cause once you ain't watchin', I'ma come and grab it Grab the cash, coppin' grass, gettin' massive chronic This that real hip-hop sh*t right here
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