Lyrics Declaration - De La Soul
Yo,
this
girl
called
me
"Hi
Pos!
Heard
your
shit,
back
in
style
baby!"
Heard
the
De
La,
said
I'm
back
in
style
y'know?
Heh
(You-you-you
you
need
to
stop)
(I
declare
that
only
live
niggas
rap
this
year)
(Jam's
off
the
meter
yo,
this
shit
is
hot)
(There's
always
ONE.
(ONE!))
(Amateurs
get
hung
with
they
own
gold
chains)
(There
it
is!!)
(I
declare
that
only
live
niggas
rap
this
year)
The
average
MC
sells
terror
We
nail
terror
up
against
the
wall
for
target
practice
Not
one
of
your
top
five
MC's
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
and
writes
to
his
destiny
(word!)
Timeless
episodes
of
talent
got
me
nominated
By
the
ones
who
hated
me
on
spittin'
tighter
Salute
these
"Supa
Emcees"
for
bein'
clever;
And
never
use
the
weed
as
a
ghostwriter
(I
declare
that
only
live
niggas
rap
this
year)
(Jam's
off
the
meter
yo,
this
shit
is
hot)
(Run
a
rapper
through
a
maze
like
a
experiment)
(Yeah,
word
up)
(I
declare
that
only
live
niggas
rap
this
year)
Contrary
to
popular
truth,
these
youth
are
runnin'
scared
So
in
one
stare
they
gettin'
strapped
Cash
rules
nothin'
from
below
the
belt
The
dick
choose
to
melt
asses
where
them
dollars
at
(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
base,
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
(De
La)
(I
declare
that
only
live
niggas
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,
rock
1 Spitkicker.com / Say R.
2 U Can Do (Life)
3 My Writes (feat. Tash, J-RO & Xzibit)
4 Oooh / Ghost Weed Skit 01
5 Thru Ya City
6 I.C. Y'all (feat. Busta Rhymes)
7 View
8 Interluden
9 Set the Mood (feat. Indeed)
10 All Good?
11 Declaration
12 Squat! (feat. Mike D & Ad Rock)
13 Words from the Chief Rocker (feat. Busy Bee)
14 With Me
15 Copa (Cabanga)
16 Foolin'
17 The Art of Getting Jumped
18 U Don't Wanna B.D.S.
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