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Declaration

Yo, this girl called me, heard the De La

Said I'm back in style y'know?

You need to stopI 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 yearThe 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 thisCoast 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 printI 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 destinyTimeless 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 writerI 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 yearContrary 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, 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 rangeYour 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 spotsAll 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 payThis 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 sewnI declare that only live niggaz rap this year

Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hotRock a bye, baby, on the tree top

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock

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