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- Singer Intro
De La Soul
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Declaration
Lyricist:Tarik L. Collins, William Griffin, Karl B. Jenkins, Albert Johnson, David Jolicoeur, Vincent L. Mason, Kelvin Mercer, Joseph Modeliste, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Arthur Neville, Leo Nocentelli, George Jr Porter, James Jason Poyser, Erick S. Sermon, Malik Smart, Parrish Joseph Smith, Malik Stewart, Ahmir K Thompson
Yo, this girl called me, heard the De La Said I'm back in style y'know? You need to stop
I declare that only live niggaz rap this year Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot, there's always one Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains I declare that only live niggaz rap this year
The average MC sells terror We nail terror up against the wall for target practice Not one of your top five MCs But I see clearly with ease you lack this
Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast Playin' host to your regiment Who rally to boast but now boast no more They got floored by the sight of my ledger print
I came specifically to fracture yo' ability To grandstand anywhere next to me This is the year when the true better man Keeps the cheddar an' writes to his destiny
Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter Salute these 'Supa Emcees' for bein' clever An' never use the weed as a ghost writer
I declare that only live niggaz rap this year Jam's off the meter yo, this shh is hot Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment, yeah, word up I declare that only live niggaz rap this year
Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared So in one stare they gettin' strapped Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Cash rules nuttin' from below the belt The dick choose to melt, ask where them dollars at?
Musta been bitten by a rabbit, actin' silly like that Your pop culture need a diaper change I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' With a whole lot of shootin' While you're keepin' out of sniper range
Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze You dead center in your tracks with your hands high Ain't no tricks, we set it to 'Fire' like Hendrix All the hard rocks at liquor spots
All over the scene, makin' it messy So we make a clean getaway to a better day Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay
This ain't no masquerade So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' There's truly a few makin' them hits While us, we got our mitts closed 'Cause you on the field buntin'
Make it to third bass but never reach home The word is your whereabouts is unknown While we're that point of view that you never really knew With the stitch to keep the cut sewn
I declare that only live niggaz rap this year Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot
Rock a bye, baby, on the tree top When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock
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