Declaration Lyrics - Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump - 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. 

(scratching) 

"You-you-you. you need to stop" 

"I declare that only live niggaz rap this year" -> Prodigy 

"Jam's off the meter yo, this {shit} is hot" -> P. Smith 

"There's always ONE. (ONE!)" 

"Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains" -> Rebel INS 

"There it is!" 

"I declare that only live niggaz rap this year" -> Prodigy 

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(Pos/Plug Won) 

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 ghost writer 

Photos 

(scratching) 

"I declare that only live niggaz rap this year" -> Prodigy 

"Jam's off the meter yo, this {shit} is hot" -> P. Smith 

"Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment" -> Malik B 

"Yeah, word up!" 

"I declare that only live niggaz rap this year" -> Prodigy 

(Pos/Plug Won) 

Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin scared 

so in one stare they gettin strapped 

Cash rules NUTTIN 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 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 (De La!) 

(scratching) 

"I declare that only live niggaz rap this year" -> Prodigy 

"Jam's off the meter yo, this {shit} is hot" -> P. Smith 

. 

ROCK A BYE BABY! ON THE TREE TOP! 

WHEN THE WIND BLOWS! THE CRADLE WILL ROCK! 

ROCK! RO.