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De La Soul

Genres: Hip-Hop

Intro - Stakes Is High Lyrics - De La Soul

(When I) 

(First heard) 

(Criminal) 

(Minded) 

(I was in...) 

(Damn, where was I?) 

(...seventh grade) 

(Battlin' this other emcee) 

(Smokin' a blunt and drinkin' a 40 down lower East Side with my niggas) 

(I have no idea where I was, it was so long ago) 

(I was on my way to a family reunion in a car on the Long Island 

expressway when I heard it) 

(Rooselvelt Projects) 

(I was in...) 

(I was outside of church when I was really little and I was doing the 

wop with this girl) 

(Red Alert played one of the songs on the radio) 

(It was so long ago) 

(Yo Merce, what's up, this is Hanson, man, I want you to peep that out. 

Yo, kid... I was at this party, this hype 

party when I heard 

KRS' Criminal Minded. I'll call you back, peace.) 

 

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(All right!) 

(All right!) 

(All right!) 

(All right!) 

 

POS: 

Channeling, in sync so my what brings that testament 

To cover twelve inches of funk 

Flip like as if I was the Dalek himself 

Specialising in cleansing like the its of 

Elephants, Dove hits bibles out the park, man 

Don't wven try to toss bleach, I'm too dark and 

Major more soul than James' "Escapism" 

De La Soul is here to stay like racism 

Patrick know and I'mma put the pillow off the bed 

As I lurk up on your thoughts while phones on your head 

Riff a tech pro, flex Sue, running you the links 

Scout weather, pouring rain outta duck's survive links 

And if one winks for pink slips, the slips are short 

Dull-minded as sperm, to give out for the souls I report 

I sport too fly for the forty-ounce drinker 

I sport too fly for a forty-ounce thinker 

A fresh linen scent so sniffer on the two-inch 

A talker of the berg without weed influence 

So stick to you Naughty By Natures and your Kane 

'Cause graffiti that I based upn the wax is insane 

 

Photos 

 

DOVE: 

Grand groove, I wish I had the flavor bid 

Give me six bottles of beer, I take the seventh one free 

I got the chandelier, kick, constructed by my man 

Little elf, big four gets the zootie for the self 

Long Island living, what, twelve o'clock dawn 

Jiggy-not see me so I trip straight to your porches 

Mr Partymaker puts the boogers in your bottle 

Straw it and drink, what bees gotta be's 

'Cause I snort the crazy-crazies 

Man, I kick the Franken-style, dig the bolts in my neck 

Wreck, ship, boat, rock 

Heavy metal grooves ain't the infinite 

Here I hips to the hops 

I'm looking for the words in the faces of a prince 

That brother been down ever since soaked cheese 

And motor go smiling 

Hey, how ya doin' 

Now, meet in front of Big Lou's fighting 

Hey, y'all reminisce, six streets, little miles 

Straight to my avenue 

(Aaaah... aaaggh) 

Six streets, went miles straight to my avenue 

I'm headed for the bigger E, for the bitter OE, not me 

Here's my Malibu, child, here's my Malibu 

Buckshot honeys, dig a gun and go aaaahhhhh... 

Writer: , , ,

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