Say IT - J Dilla, Ta'Raach

I don’t know man

I don’t know if they really wanna hear this shit

(«Come on») alright

(«Say it»)

Welcome to the sacred, Dilla ok kid

Shit’s tight like a size smaller than your waist fit

Winter in America, when this nigga blow

Step into get your face spited, it gets cold

But it’s all beauty in the belly

In summer when colors let brothers spoon it and the jelly

They love us

Cooking up them sauces from the sources that’s above us

Butter between the bread so I don’t bust on the covers

Legs pumping on the spread, I’m on the cusp with some mother

Let it rain off the brain, it’s kinda tough with them rubbers

Call cousin like, «what up with it?», cut with the cutlass

Back on the clock of running motherfuckers and numbers («Say It»)

«Whatchu wa-wa-want?»

«It's the 'Raach with a capital R-a»

«It's the 'Raach with a capital R-a»

«J Dilla»

«You'll see all these rappers»

«So whatchu want?»

«With a capital R-a»

«Watcha gonna do?»

«Say yes, yes, y’all»

Say it, lay it out for 'em

Not a day goes by without the foursome in the whoredom

Record something to it, beef it up and make it sound stupid

Future’s looking bleak on some «Mo' Better Blues» shit

That’s when niggas with no cheese or dues get spitted on your cellular phone

I left a message for ya, «cut it out you’re selling them clones «Niggas is outside buggin' out, you’re jailed in your home

Hail the dopeness, the focus is back

Watch your life sail hopeless off of sofas and snacks

Too surface, being nervous is closer than that

Pulled off into the abyss you’re being chose for the crack

For that performance y’all Martin Lawerence, Otis on rap «(Say it»)

«Whatchu wa-wa-want?»

«It's the 'Raach with a capital R-a»

It’s a wrap

Nobody tell ya?

«It's the 'Raach with a capital R-a»

«J Dilla»

«You'll see all these rappers»

«So whatchu want?»

«With a capital R-a»

«Watcha gonna do?»

«Say yes, yes, y’all»

Holla, holla, back, back at it, at your own discretion

Niggas busting hardhats for they own protection

Closed contested stance, game over

You a lame soda, we bubbling man

To the top 'til it pop and the plan

Bring your glass to it, shoot I put the pain in the champ

From the D to the city with bikinis and sand

But Dilla Dog put me up on all of y’all in Japan («Say it»)

Dilla Dog love Japan

love Japan

OXOX in Japan

We out in Japan

«Come on»

«Say It»

«Come on»

«Say It»