| Dilla, Dilla, mix, mix, mix
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| Y’all know what it is, villain
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| Dilla, Dilla still the best
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| Ahem, one two, one two, one two
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| They scared of this track like a terrorist attack
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| Prepare to get back when he’s wearing just black
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| Get a dog, they soft like a peach
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| Rhymes like sand on beach, off the leash, screech
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| Deep wells, spells, «Saved By The Bell,» L
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| Well behaved and gave 'em hell
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| Walked on gilded splinters
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| In a handstand stalked the crill-lit winter
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| Coldest ever, midnight, break day like loaves of bread
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| Cleverly way overhead
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| Nicest beat maker east of the equator
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| From the greater good, your hood to deep theta
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| Take a leap of faith and scrape a heap of eighth
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| Face all chafe, have the whole place strafe
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| Toodle-loo, use your noodle or it’ll use you
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| Two for two, you oughta wadoo when you cruising through
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| Later than the last 48 post traumatic stress
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| In a post hypnotic state, got it? |
| Great
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| These things is not toys
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| Only to be handled be kings whose got poise
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| Not boys, you hear me, twerps?
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| Story rings nearly like the McCleary versus the Earps
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| Hey, you want to stay in your genre?
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| Then protest the villain them rendition of, «La Bamba»
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| Emcees speaking and they in need of some hohoba
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| All this up in here malik yoba, pro bruh
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| Attack the track like a lumberjack, quick
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| Chop it down to size fire wood is drumstix |