Phife Dawg – Dear Dilla Lyrics

Produced By: Dj Rasta Root
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[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

D-Town throw it up
NYC throw it up
The whole world throw it up
BK

[Verse 1: Phife]
Hold tight, this ain't the last time I see you
Due time, that's my word imma see you
Frontin ass rappers now here stealin' intros
Posin like they hard when we know they all see through
Imma tell you Dilla why they lackin skills 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 Imma 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 x4

[Verse 2: Phife]
Yo yo
Beatwise, you still that cat which most shit 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, nevermind 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 synchin 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 extraordinary, no beats were recycled
But on your worst day they couldn't mess with you
Cats makin G's in remembrance of you
Least they could do is give your fam a dime or two

This man gave his heart, this what the fuck y'all do?
But yo don't stress my you, word bond we got you
Tell Baatin I said whats 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 my DJ Rasta Root on the beat, on the cuts
Smokin Needles, [?], salute
ATCQ forever

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