The Diary J Dilla

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[Intro: Dankery Harv]
Yeah, yeah, what's the deal-y?
My nigga Dilla for life
McNasty records, uh, yeah

[Verse: 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 six
Blessed with the hardest of kicks from Jangle to Magics
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

[Interlude: Dankery Harv]
Yeah, 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