Tonight’s Da Night lyrics

by

J Dilla


[Verse 1]
Mic Check
I can kick flows far from basic, creative
To police I'm evasive, abrasive
Generic MC's ain't tryna hear 'em
I tear 'em up
Like pus*y lips when I f*ck
I'm shooting sh*t up, so duck

[Interlude]
[Big O]
Yo, n*gga
Chase, what the f*ck is up with this sh*t man?
Kick some real sh*t, son

[That Yung Chase]
Aight, King

[Verse 2]

Double S be the crew
My n*gga Damz got the tool
And I ain't talking construction
Reconstruct your face, if you actin' the fool
The old school baggity back
Thinkin' you bad word? f*ck that you'll get jacked son, Micheal
Kyle bet yo wife and kids lovin' my style
Don't think its all smiles
Cause I'ma peace loving fool
Don't mean I can't get straps on like dykes do
Abuse mics and MC's like you
I'm ill, what I write aimed at chu
Don't claim you rap if you on that future sh*t
It's the past I spit
Real Hip Hop, you can't represent this
SSB representatives
Straight out the L-Cap
We smoke L's and spit crack
From a place where gats aimed at backs
And brothers getting dropped in a domino effect
Wriggedy wreck MC's Das Efx's
Smooth funk I inject and protect
Never claimed to be a gangster
Or a big rap star
Cause I know better
But I can still spit real
A language you can't learn from Rosetta
It was written in Stone
Dog she wanna bone
b*tch eye a brother I no phone
Burn thes MC's, first name Mac
These "rappers" wiggity whack
96' it don't stop, R.I.P to the Mac's
Keep a Glock, they shook
Every time we Mobb Deep, they scared to look
Rhymes deep it's hard to under-look a brother like me
Too heavy to be taken lightly
It's likely, I devour MC's by the hour
Spit sweet so they lookin' sour
Cower, in the presence of danger, they waiver
Hair nappy, I'm happy
Lookin' like dreads, but Steelo never crappy
Keep it on the D-Lo
I'm packin', wrappin' rappers up like a blunt
To be blunt
Yo Jackie Chan fam, all you do is stunt
Why front?
I got methods to turn man red (Man)
You could end up dead
If you disrespect blam
By your neck you'll hang
Ain't even grown yet she calling me the man
She call me to slam
Dunk in that pus*y like Shaq
Break her back against the board
Towards my goals I get closer
Can't afford to lose my composure
In these streets, not looking to meet defeat
I feast on beats
Hand me the keys let's ride, let my rhymes drive
Smooth, call me "Old School", tonight's da night
Tonight no fights
I'm with my n*ggas
My n*ggas, so it's alright
Uh, yeah, so it's all right
[Sample: "All Night"]
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