Fif-dee cent, da "d", whatever you wanna call that slut. my angry buddie who probalby don't own any piece of clothing less than fiddy dollas. some rich bitch. i love ya tho, ho.

Any line derived from the rapper Xzibit himself or the MTV show Pimp My Ride. Xzibitzms have been popularized by the YO DAWG internet meme

A colossal fan of the legendary hip-hop producer and grandfather of neo-soul, James Dewitt Yancey aka Jay Dee or J Dilla. We recognize his otherworldly excellence, and possess an insatiable desire to own all of his material. We have (pre-Donuts) rare vintage Jay Dee/Ummah tracks in our extensive media library, we study his instrumental breaks, we obsessively hunt for his samples, we watch his documentaries, we knew about him BEFORE he died. We don't simply own the "Donuts" album and "Dilla Saved My Life" t-shirts, desperately trying to be something we are not. We are NOT poseurs! We do not try to fit a mold! We separate ourselves from the 'normal' fan with our THOROUGH knowledge of his material, and the material of his associated acts. We don't selfishly hoard his music; instead we attempt to educate and bestow upon others his brilliance. We're often called snobs or elitists, but that's not the case; SOME of us simply don't appreciate the over-usage and exploitation of the term "Dilla Head". There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a posthumous fan (in fact, we think it's GREAT and applaud you for discovering him). You don't need a Doctorate of Dilla Philosophy to be a fan, however, if you want to openly call yourself a "Dilla Head", you'd better be working on one. Rest In Beats, Mr. Yancey.

Kah-dee-chay - n. Slang term for vagina, pussy, coochie, or snatch

A term commonly used with great fury in reference to your sibling allowing the dog to escape for a few minutes. Although it may not seem fit, being labeled a chicken fucker is sufficient verbal punishment for letting the dog escape. It's even more delightful when you get called one by a 10 year old.

After excessive use of cocaine, you find yourself in a huge pile of dirty laundry, trying to blend yourself in with it with your forearms crossing your face because you are beyond paranoid and think that the police are coming to get you! You unlock your forearms like a clam opening its shell to peep out to check for the police then close them to re-blend yourself into your pile of dirty laundry! See also "peeper"!

The Michael Jordan of beatmaking.

Rest in Peace.