Baby Songtext
von J Dilla feat. Madlib & Guilty Simpson

Let′s go
Turn it up, live, niggaz, throw it up
It's the official, we got the bank for ya, go

You can catch Guilty Simpson at a rave with babes
Packin′ a .38 snub and a razor blade, uh
Thug shit in a major way
I kick ya dog's ass like a Flavor Flav

Thug niggaz with guns beneath leathers
If you know better, keep ya bitch on tether
Niggaz got snow like cold, cold weather
And big money clips 'cause they fold dough better

Yeah, packin′ three cuties in the Hemi
I be runnin′ hoes like Luke in Miami
So I hit her, gotta get the half of my Jimmy
I don't mean to pimp that hard, it′s just in me

Got a sick flow and a couple of pistols
Got this thick chick Coco in Cisco
The same day I met her, we backstage in the bathroom
She got a mouth like a vacuum, uh


We them boys with the chains on our neck
Every five minutes we untanglin' them
It′s Pay Jay make sure the name on the check
Jay Dee in the turnin' lane with ya ex, like Los Angeles

And the nights are scandalous
Thick like big bread basket sandwiches
Choke on that, we smoke on bats
And put a hole through the horse on your Polo hat

And leave the shit smokin′ where the logo at
And the witnesses won't tell po-po jack, uh
That's how it is when we fuck shit up
(Kill it)
People hoes horny and the blunts lit up
Feel it

Yup, real talk y′all
I met this girl last night
She whispered in my ear like

Baby, you′re the one
Baby, take me home tonight
Baby, lay me down
Baby, girl it's only right
Baby, you′re the one
Baby, you're the one for me


Baby
(Yeah)
You should be havin′ my baby
(Turn it up)
You should be havin' my baby

It′s the official, [unverified] make the wrist glow
Think it's a disco when I ran Bisco
If you feelin' it, where your Earl Flynn at?
Cut the check, Tim tell ′em where to send at

That you coming in phat
Tell me where ya friends at
Kay moved to the valet where the Benz at
Let′s be

Out ridin' high
Girls stop when they see the clique ridin′ by, on jock
They ain't invited unless they gon′ drop
You do it how I like it and make it go pop

If all's agreed, we got weed
Skatin′ through the area movin' at Mach speed
Makin' moves is a must, why bother doin′ it
If what y′all doin' ain′t 'bout dollars?

All my
Girls always lookin′ for me
My kids' moms always lookin′ for me
They lookin' good for me
You what? You gon' stick with her or me?

Damn girl, you always givin′ the third degree, you still my
(Baby)
Always keepin′ me up on my toes
Unless I'm out creepin′ on do's or sleepin′ with hoes

Still my
(Baby)
Cakes with cakes upon cakes
(Hey, where my money at?)
Keep a nigga spendin' papes

Turn it up another notch
Yeah, that′s how we doin' it
Broadcasting, live from WBBE
You know how we do it

We got a special guest in the house
He goes by the name of Dave New York
Dave, we talkin' ′bout, hip hop and radio
Dave, where you at with it?

How do I feel about radio hip-hop?
I think it′s wack
Most of the shit they play is straight garbage