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letra de whatup dilla - the ill spoken

[intro: beedie]
ya heard? yo, uh, yo, yo
rest in peace, j dilla (yo)
[?] rest in peace, j dilla
yeah, rest in peace, j dilla (uh-huh)
yeah, rest in peace, j dilla (r.i.p.)
how high: the mixtape, rated r, diggz, ill spoken

[verse 1: beedie]
what up, dilla? hope you rest in peace
you still speakin’ for ya beats when you bless the streets (uh)
real talk, put your tape on and press repeat
so let me kick back, relax and rest my feet
yeah, we can chill, true mc’s, they speak it real
a lot of fake cats make tracks and break a deal (pssh)
[?] that’s bullsh-t, fools gettin’ [?]
so what the deal? [?]
my name is beedie, let me give you all the introduction
the ill spoken comin’ through for the ill discussion
it’s somethin’ runnin’ through the veins, i can feel it rushin’ (uh-huh)
thought it was over but it really wasn’t, because we comin’
ain’t no one try to ruin our moves until we done it
you act bogus, i focus on gettin’ cream
grind harder than ya t–th on methamphetamines, what i mean?
you cats couldn’t rumble with the team
’cause you couldn’t count your numbers, pull you under when you scream
real things: you fiends that gon’ touch my cash or puff my grass
blunts mixed with b-tts and hash
never did well in school, but i love my math
count my stacks every night before i hit the mattress (yeah)
gettin’ cash, sh-t is systematic
but don’t get mad if ya sh-t get splatted, believe me
[verse 2: mac miller]
what’s good, y’all? (yo) my name is mac
you can hear me ‘cross the hall while i’m bangin’ rap
and now ya face is slapped with a dedication track
oh sh-t, that’s kinda hard, i ain’t erasin’ that
so rest in peace to the beast on the beat: j dilla
for you, we raise a miller, hip-hop still feel ya
i bust rhymes over melodies [?]
and bust spines with each and every punchline (pow)
so how you like me now?
this ill spoken ground’s be around for a while
juggle verses like a circus, turnin’ frowns into smiles
you see us round town, underground with some [?]
stop talkin’ ’bout this and that
see me as i kick it back, spittin’ rap and fitted caps
smoke an l and hit the sack, askin’, “can you picture that?”
picture-perfect verses
’cause me and beedie [?], ill spoken at your service
smack you side the head, alert the doctors and the nurses
a wallet in your pocket, b-tches better hide they purses
’cause once you ain’t watchin’, i’ma come and grab it
grab the cash, coppin’ grass, gettin’ massive chronic

[outro: [?]]
[?]
this that real hip-hop sh-t right here

- the ill spoken

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