Declaration

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