Q-tip - Dear Dilla lyrics

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Q-tip - Dear Dilla lyrics

[Interlude: Phife] Dilla dawg, I had a dream about you fam Its 2005, we in the same hospital room You on one side, I'm on the other I'm stressed out, but what gave motivation was you pullin' out that MP And bangin' out some bangers as usual Nothin' ever phased you fam, and for that, I miss you [Intro] D-Town throw it up NYC throw it up The whole world throw it up BK [Verse 1] Hold tight, this ain't the last time I see you Due time, that's my word, I'mma see you Frontin' a** rappers now here stealin' intros Posin' like they hard when we know they all see through I'mma tell you, Dilla, why they lackin' sk**s now No stage presence, cadence, style They livin' off of hooks, skinny jean crooks Pre-K lyrics, why would I need a book? I reminisce, reminisce, when Mobb dropped shook Shan was down by law, such a good look Nas' God's Son, his return was Stillmatic Distortion to Static, you and Slum Fantastic Thought I'd chop you out, son, see how you're doin' Come back to earth, homie, hip hop is in ruins I'm a third of the Tribe but I'mma speak for the click What up though, we miss you, kid Motor City say [Hook: Q-Tip] [Jay Dee, flip another beat for me, Jay [Jay Dee, flip another beat for me, Jay [Jay Dee, flip another beat for me, Jay Jay Dee, flip another beat for me, Jay [Verse 2: Phife] Yo, yo, beatwise, you still that cat which most sh** be measured I'm that MC known to share his displeasure With the route the game was taking, how mundane things have gotten You know music on a whole, never mind just hip-hoppin' I'm in the club, 3 hours and change DJ spinnin Top 40, we be hearin' all day Some MCs are catalog, and yeah, they stay paid But why pay over one buck, when they lip syncin' on stage? King of pop, Barry White, rollin' over in they grave Jones Girls, Emotions singin' back in our day Dilla dude still crackin', they wish to be like you Producer extraordinaires, knowing their beats be recycled But on your worst day they couldn't mess with you Cats makin' Ts in remembrance of you Least they could do is give your fam a dime or two This man gave his heart, this what the f** y'all do? But yo, don't stress my you, word bond we got you Tell Baatin I said what's up, word, he right next to you? So NYC to the D with heavy hearts we miss you Word, God wish you were here, so until we meet again just... Hook [Outro: Phife] Ma dukes V. Rich on the keys My main man DJ Rasta Root on the beat, on the cuts Smokin Needles, [?] kids, salute ATCQ forever