J Dilla
Young Guns
[Part I]

[Intro: Guilty Simpson]
There's no motherfucking way, man
I've had it with that bullshit
Some n***as still won't give you a pound
After they see you, just stand up
Man, what the fuck is going out there?
N***as be really losing their brains, man
Acting like there on that other shit
Detroit, Michigan
Spittin' flames around here, check it

[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson]
This my crew be prepared to fight
You don't want to be on my level
'Cause you're scared of heights
I'm evil, don't even ask me to spare your life
He other option is a chair for life
With wheels on it (Aha, n***a), rollout
'Fore I have you n***as leavin' with a swole mouth
Still unsigned, you can call it a holdout
Eatin' getting drunk at your local Roadhouse
Not really concerned with these rappcats
Doing our shit then split, n***a, that's that, be serious
So before you try to get all curious and bump guns
Just remember: you're fucking with some young guns
[Interlude: Guilty Simpson]
Standoff, motherfucker
Get your shit bucked
Causing all roughneck, guttered n***as
Smack the shit out of a bitch n***a type motherfucker
The fuck, n***a
Throw 'em up, y'all, it's real out here

[Verse 2: Guilty Simpson]
Shit happens for a reason, I know that
True as a year has four seasons, cold as the winter
When I spray from your darkness and blast, too far, face down
Some of y'all n***as waste rounds
Aiming in the air, "Who the fuck up there?"
Claim the street, gotta play for keeps
Pitbull litter n***as what we were trained to be
Tossed in a circle, blood stained my teeth
Out there they hurt you, life spans is brief these days
So I keep the heat these days
And hold it when the green leaves blaze
Paranoid with apparent eyes, would you want to be crazed

[Part II]

[J Dilla]
Oh, yeah
Turn it up
This one is called
The way (Let's go)
The way
Move that g-string out the way
Move that g-string out the way
Move that g-string out the way, ay