[00:06.424][Dave:] |
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[00:23.919] |
Yo, everybody's sayin... what to do |
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when sucka lunatics start diggin and chewin |
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They don't know, that the Soul don't go |
[00:32.417] |
for that, potholes in my lawn |
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And that goes for my rhyme sheet |
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Which I concentrated so hard on, see |
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I don't ask for maximum security |
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Aiyyo, my dwellin is swellin |
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Nipped my bud when I happened to fall |
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Into a spot, where no ink or an ink-blot |
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Was on my scroll, wrote me a new 'mot' |
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But now it's gone, cause those punks knew that I hate |
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To recognise when they come thru, they leave with the words |
[00:55.416] |
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(Potholes in my lawn..) |
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|
[01:12.168][Posdnuos:] |
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Yeah, I've found that it's not wise |
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To leave my garden untended cause eyes |
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have now pardoned all laws of privacy |
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Even paws are after my writer |
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See, I pursue that everyone's sayin |
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What to do when suckers start preyin |
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On my well-guarded spreadsheets |
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Oh why, hell does it send up fleets |
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Of evil-doers through the big hole |
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Get them evil-doers who be diggin holes |
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Which leaves my lawn with lawn-chew |
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I think I'd better plant traces, give clues |
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Or better yet call 911 |
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..And when they get here I inform them I'm the Plug One |
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Open a chair and let them realize the reason |
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For concern of the Soul.. |
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But yo, check it we gonna do it like this |
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You say ain't no Dilla like the one I got! |
[02:00.920] |
(No one can do shit better!) |
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His beats held the DNA of hip-hop |
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(And kept it hot like a thermal sweater!) |
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Can't duplicate it so just leave it alone |
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(Naw, you can't duplicate the sound, boy!) |
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He has the universal sound but the D was his home |
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The D was his home (Motown), the D was his home |
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The D was his home (Motown), the D was his home |
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The D was his home (Motown), the D was his home |
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The D was his home (Motown), the D was his home {"MOTOWN"} |
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|
[02:28.168] |
"This is the city of Detroit, in the state of Michigan" |
[02:35.168] |
"Now, WAIT A-" "This ain't no mother****in cinema, BITCH!" |