Baby lyrics by J Dilla - original song full text. Official Baby lyrics, 2025 version | LyricsMode.com
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J Dilla – Baby lyrics
Let's go!
Turn it up live niggas 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 niggas with guns beneath leathers
If you know better, keep ya bitch on tether
Niggas got snow like cold cold weather
And big money clips cause they fold dough better

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 from '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
E'ry 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/X, 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, need 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 fat tell me where your 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
Always keepin me up on my toes
Unless I'm out creepin' on do's or sleepin' with hoes
Still my, cakes with cakes upon cakes
(Ay, 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!
×

Let's go! Turn it up live niggas 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 niggas with guns beneath leathers If you know better, keep ya bitch on tether Niggas got snow like cold cold weather And big money clips cause they fold dough better 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 from '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 E'ry 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/X, 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, need 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 fat tell me where your 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 Always keepin me up on my toes Unless I'm out creepin' on do's or sleepin' with hoes Still my, cakes with cakes upon cakes (Ay, 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! Explain Request ×



Lyrics taken from /lyrics/j/j_dilla/baby.html

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Songwriters: BYRON SIMPSON, JAMES DEWITT YANCEY, OTIS LEE JACKSON
Baby lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING, Universal Music Publishing Group
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official video

J Dilla- Baby (feat Madlib & Guilty Simpson)

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