Lyrics

[Intro: Dankery Harv] Yeah, yeah, what's the dealy? My nigga Dilla – for life! McNasty Records, uh, yeah [Verse: J Dilla] I come from a long line Of pimps, hustlers, soldiers, and thugs With 7 Mile in the vein, and soul through the blood From a place called the Mo', dawg Where most of my niggas can't hold a job But they can hold them a gun Born and raised in the heart of this bitch My father done started this shit I started spinning parties at six Blessed with the hardest of kicks from Jangle to Magics And my uncle used to be in the attic, sc-scr-scratching He used to hit the weed and then pass it Damn, look at me with the habit Look at me counting my scratch, speeding through traffic Uh! But – the flow is colder than the floor in a cell So bring your weed, I got a story to tell [Interlude: Dankery Harv] Yeah, my nigga Dilla's been in the game for years, you know what I mean? Respect the game, it's all real So, yo – it's time to cake up, baby [Chorus: J Dilla & Frank Nitt] You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (J Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (J Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (J Dilla) You think you know, you have no idea This is the diary of who? (J Dilla) You think you know...