j dilla - it's like that (alternate version) lyrics
[intro]
i’m wit it, get live wit it
yeah
yeah, i’m back
big tone, ta’raach, jay dee
what?
[verse 1: hodge podge]
i’ma let y’all n+ggas pop the coochie (why?) ’cause you p+ssy
plus this .45 bustin’ a back that ass up like juvie
sophisticated bourgeois n+ggas with bad habits
and if you don’t like it, you can get it and stick it where the sun don’t glisten (punks)
n+ggas is critics and some don’t listen
i told y’all (what?), persevering through all of this bullsh+t
and life is a black six and a hood+rat catching a contact
plus the hennessy, get my brains blown out like john kennedy
remember me, split a n+gga ear to cheek within the beat (why?)
best kept secret, got some sh+t fixin’ to hit the street
y’all n+ggas ain’t even a issue (nah)
so real, a n+gga bleed through the pencil
it’s like that
[verse 2: lacks]
i need a day off the scene (why?) ’cause y’all g+y motherf+ckers is mean
i’m seen buyin’ beats off this n+gga, that’s like the end of my career (yeah?)
i tell a n+gga like fuzz, man, f+ck that
i’m tryin’ to have these b+tches like, “you see me, i touch lacks”
give n+ggas pounds like, “see me, i touch lacks”
plus tracks bangin’ out the back of the range
respect my gun and (blaow), i speak with a double barrel slang
in unison with this music in the back of my brain
rockin’ straw hats and pradas, com eatin’ on mcdonald’s
but i know the time (dawg), it’s time to get you up a bottle (uh)
some sh+t that’s hard to swallow, you ain’t even a issue (nah)
i’m so real, a n+gga ain’t gotta diss you
it’s like that, uh
[instrumental break]
[verse 3: lacks]
i got a new respect for half+ass rappers and wack producers
there’s something about pure talent that attracts the useless
but drains the pure talent juices (yeah)
that’s detrimental to the rootless that drink artificially flavored sodas
big egos like compensate smalls frames like yodas
america made to break down like dollar store purchases
but so called real n+ggas turn to catholic services (you know)
you know perpin’ is you, don’t hate me (come on)
i play hooky from new schools and teach about the old
where rap cats is cold like michigan weather
sportin’ fubu gear, pushin’ timberland leather
through city blocks with scriptures that blast
and turn motherf+ckers into father figures
y’all n+ggas better recognize
ain’t sh+t jumpin’ off unless ta’raach authorize
tell a n+gga like this, make like dwele and rize
’cause b.c. and everything we make is fly
[verse 4: hodge podge]
i got a lot of shining to do
and when i drop i’ma redefine hot (why?)
see y’all n+ggas got a lot of rhyming to do
i’m tryin to get a spot with a view (uh+huh)
a tan six and a watch band with a diamond or two (bling)
understand it, granted i’ma bust ’til i can’t breathe
and every chicken alive got my cover to vibe
next to usher and jay+z’s (yeah)
the montana way (uh, tony) to crashin’ caboray
glass of ‘zay cradled, link swingin’ past my navel (why?)
c+cky enough to captivate you, you all consumed
just smell the aeric that’s in the air when i walk in the room (huh, a playboy)
recognize with g quest and press on
and if it ain’t dawn, y’all n+ggas still p+wns on the chess board (like cat said)
don’t n0body give a f+ck until you get them ducks and hit ’em up
i spit for the bucks, square business, what?
[outro: jay dee]
what? n+ggas, it’s like that
jay dee, drop the beat, what?
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