[{"id":26922729,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"De La Soul Is Dead","duration":176.3110016,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: De La Soul Is Dead\n  duration_ms: 176311\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":26083477,"name":"declaration","trackName":"declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"De La Soul Is Dead/Art Official Intelligence","duration":179.719206,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: De La Soul Is Dead/Art Official Intelligence\n  duration_ms: 179719\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":1449942,"name":"Declaration (prod by De La Soul)","trackName":"Declaration (prod by De La Soul)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.08] Yo\n[00:00.93] This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n[00:03.31] And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n[00:06.42] You need to stop\n[00:09.15] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:14.27] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[00:17.13] There's always one (one)\n[00:18.33] Wonder why\n[00:19.64] Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n[00:24.62] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:28.08] The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n[00:33.53] Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n[00:38.84] Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n[00:43.84] Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n[00:49.19] I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n[00:54.26] This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n[00:59.79] Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n[01:04.84] Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n[01:10.29] I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n[01:15.67] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[01:21.58] Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n[01:26.98] I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n[01:30.90] Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n[01:36.33] Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n[01:41.38] Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n[01:46.56] I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n[01:51.66] Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n[01:56.92] Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n[02:02.05] All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n[02:07.33] Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n[02:12.58] This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n[02:17.52] There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n[02:22.86] Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n[02:28.09] While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n[02:34.74] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[02:39.10] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[02:48.85] Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n[02:52.47] When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n[02:56.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration (prod by De La Soul)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 80\n  end_ms: 930\n- text: This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n  start_ms: 930\n  end_ms: 3310\n- text: And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n  start_ms: 3310\n  end_ms: 6420\n- text: You need to stop\n  start_ms: 6420\n  end_ms: 9150\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 9150\n  end_ms: 14270\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 14270\n  end_ms: 17130\n- text: There's always one (one)\n  start_ms: 17130\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Wonder why\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 19640\n- text: Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n  start_ms: 19640\n  end_ms: 24620\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 24620\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 33530\n- text: Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n  start_ms: 33530\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 59790\n- text: Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  start_ms: 59790\n  end_ms: 64840\n- text: Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n  start_ms: 64840\n  end_ms: 70290\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n  start_ms: 70290\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 81580\n- text: Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n  start_ms: 81580\n  end_ms: 86980\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n  start_ms: 86980\n  end_ms: 90900\n- text: Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n  start_ms: 90900\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 101380\n- text: Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n  start_ms: 101380\n  end_ms: 106560\n- text: I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  start_ms: 106560\n  end_ms: 111660\n- text: Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  start_ms: 111660\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 122050\n- text: All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  start_ms: 122050\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 132580\n- text: This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n  start_ms: 132580\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 142860\n- text: Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  start_ms: 142860\n  end_ms: 148090\n- text: While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n  start_ms: 148090\n  end_ms: 154740\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 154740\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 168850\n- text: Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n  start_ms: 168850\n  end_ms: 172470\n- text: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n  start_ms: 172470\n  end_ms: 176120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":1449941,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.08] Yo\n[00:00.93] This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n[00:03.31] And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n[00:06.42] You need to stop\n[00:09.15] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:14.27] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[00:17.13] There's always one (one)\n[00:18.33] Wonder why\n[00:19.64] Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n[00:24.62] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:28.08] The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n[00:33.53] Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n[00:38.84] Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n[00:43.84] Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n[00:49.19] I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n[00:54.26] This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n[00:59.79] Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n[01:04.84] Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n[01:10.29] I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n[01:15.67] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[01:21.58] Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n[01:26.98] I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n[01:30.90] Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n[01:36.33] Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n[01:41.38] Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n[01:46.56] I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n[01:51.66] Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n[01:56.92] Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n[02:02.05] All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n[02:07.33] Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n[02:12.58] This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n[02:17.52] There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n[02:22.86] Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n[02:28.09] While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n[02:34.74] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[02:39.10] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[02:48.85] Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n[02:52.47] When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n[02:56.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 80\n  end_ms: 930\n- text: This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n  start_ms: 930\n  end_ms: 3310\n- text: And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n  start_ms: 3310\n  end_ms: 6420\n- text: You need to stop\n  start_ms: 6420\n  end_ms: 9150\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 9150\n  end_ms: 14270\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 14270\n  end_ms: 17130\n- text: There's always one (one)\n  start_ms: 17130\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Wonder why\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 19640\n- text: Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n  start_ms: 19640\n  end_ms: 24620\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 24620\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 33530\n- text: Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n  start_ms: 33530\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 59790\n- text: Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  start_ms: 59790\n  end_ms: 64840\n- text: Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n  start_ms: 64840\n  end_ms: 70290\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n  start_ms: 70290\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 81580\n- text: Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n  start_ms: 81580\n  end_ms: 86980\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n  start_ms: 86980\n  end_ms: 90900\n- text: Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n  start_ms: 90900\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 101380\n- text: Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n  start_ms: 101380\n  end_ms: 106560\n- text: I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  start_ms: 106560\n  end_ms: 111660\n- text: Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  start_ms: 111660\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 122050\n- text: All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  start_ms: 122050\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 132580\n- text: This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n  start_ms: 132580\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 142860\n- text: Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  start_ms: 142860\n  end_ms: 148090\n- text: While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n  start_ms: 148090\n  end_ms: 154740\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 154740\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 168850\n- text: Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n  start_ms: 168850\n  end_ms: 172470\n- text: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n  start_ms: 172470\n  end_ms: 176120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":30272643,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mos","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mos'\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":19631611,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"art official intelligence","duration":179.3432064,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: art official intelligence\n  duration_ms: 179343\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":21285260,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump","duration":179.626667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 179627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":21236873,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mos","duration":179.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mos'\n  duration_ms: 179000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":18786711,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":179.626667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 179627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":20632356,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"AOI - Mosaic Thump","duration":179.354333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: AOI - Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 179354\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":23446358,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":263.263844,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 263264\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":21878766,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Mosaic Thump","duration":179.65045,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 179650\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":23338143,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence Mosaic Thump CD","duration":179.626667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence Mosaic Thump CD\n  duration_ms: 179627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":12977781,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.08] Yo\n[00:00.93] This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n[00:03.31] And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n[00:06.42] You need to stop\n[00:09.15] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:14.27] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[00:17.13] There's always one (one)\n[00:18.33] Wonder why\n[00:19.64] Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n[00:24.62] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:28.08] The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n[00:33.53] Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n[00:38.84] Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n[00:43.84] Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n[00:49.19] I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n[00:54.26] This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n[00:59.79] Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n[01:04.84] Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n[01:10.29] I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n[01:15.67] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[01:21.58] Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n[01:26.98] I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n[01:30.90] Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n[01:36.33] Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n[01:41.38] Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n[01:46.56] I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n[01:51.66] Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n[01:56.92] Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n[02:02.05] All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n[02:07.33] Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n[02:12.58] This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n[02:17.52] There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n[02:22.86] Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n[02:28.09] While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n[02:34.74] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[02:39.10] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[02:48.85] Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n[02:52.47] When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n[02:56.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 80\n  end_ms: 930\n- text: This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n  start_ms: 930\n  end_ms: 3310\n- text: And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n  start_ms: 3310\n  end_ms: 6420\n- text: You need to stop\n  start_ms: 6420\n  end_ms: 9150\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 9150\n  end_ms: 14270\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 14270\n  end_ms: 17130\n- text: There's always one (one)\n  start_ms: 17130\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Wonder why\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 19640\n- text: Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n  start_ms: 19640\n  end_ms: 24620\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 24620\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 33530\n- text: Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n  start_ms: 33530\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 59790\n- text: Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  start_ms: 59790\n  end_ms: 64840\n- text: Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n  start_ms: 64840\n  end_ms: 70290\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n  start_ms: 70290\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 81580\n- text: Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n  start_ms: 81580\n  end_ms: 86980\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n  start_ms: 86980\n  end_ms: 90900\n- text: Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n  start_ms: 90900\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 101380\n- text: Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n  start_ms: 101380\n  end_ms: 106560\n- text: I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  start_ms: 106560\n  end_ms: 111660\n- text: Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  start_ms: 111660\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 122050\n- text: All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  start_ms: 122050\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 132580\n- text: This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n  start_ms: 132580\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 142860\n- text: Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  start_ms: 142860\n  end_ms: 148090\n- text: While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n  start_ms: 148090\n  end_ms: 154740\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 154740\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 168850\n- text: Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n  start_ms: 168850\n  end_ms: 172470\n- text: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n  start_ms: 172470\n  end_ms: 176120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":27772249,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Offical Intelligence: Mosaik Thump","duration":180.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Offical Intelligence: Mosaik Thump'\n  duration_ms: 180000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":28112234,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":38821088,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De la Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump (48kHz/24bit)","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this girl called me\n\"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\nHeard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\nHeh\n\n(You-you-you you need to stop)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n(Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n(There it is!!)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nThe average MC sells terror\nWe nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MC's\nBut I see clearly with ease you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\nPlayin host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more\nThey got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\nTo grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year, when the true better man\nKeeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated\nBy the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\nAnd never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n(Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n(Yeah, word up)\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\nSo in one stare they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt\nThe dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n(Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\nActin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\nWith a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\nYou dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\nAll the hard rocks at liquor spots\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy\nSo we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\nThis ain't no masquerade\nSo the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits\nWhile us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home\nThe word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view, that you never really knew\nWith the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n(I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n(Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\nRock a bye baby on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock\nRock, rock","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De la Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump (48kHz/24bit)'\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this girl called me\n  \"Hi Pos! Heard your shit, back in style baby!\"\n  Heard the De La, said I'm back in style y'know?\n  Heh\n\n  (You-you-you you need to stop)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (There's always ONE. (ONE!))\n  (Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains)\n  (There it is!!)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  The average MC sells terror\n  We nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MC's\n  But I see clearly with ease you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast\n  Playin host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more\n  They got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically, to fracture yo' ability\n  To grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year, when the true better man\n  Keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word!)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated\n  By the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these \"Supa Emcees\" for bein' clever;\n  And never use the weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n  (Run a rapper through a maze like a experiment)\n  (Yeah, word up)\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared\n  So in one stare they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt\n  The dick choose to melt asses where them dollars at\n  (Where them dollars at?) Musta been bitten by a rabbit\n  Actin silly like that; your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic, like I'm lootin'\n  With a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze\n  You dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix\n  All the hard rocks at liquor spots\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy\n  So we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same, for them cats who left the game\n  'Cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  This ain't no masquerade\n  So the mass parade of people need to stop frontin'\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits\n  While us, we got our mitts closed cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home\n  The word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view, that you never really knew\n  With the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  (I declare that only live niggas rap this year)\n  (Jam's off the meter yo, this shit is hot)\n\n  Rock a bye baby on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock\n  Rock, rock\n"},{"id":40144508,"name":"Declaration","trackName":"Declaration","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mo","duration":176.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nThis girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\nAnd said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n\nYou need to stop\nI declare that only live - rap this year\nJam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\nThere's always one (one)\nWonder why\nAmateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\nI declare that only live - rap this year\n\nThe average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\nNot one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\nCoast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\nWho rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\nI came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\nThis is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\nTimeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\nSalute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n\nI declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\nJam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\nRun a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\nI declare that only live niggas rap this year\n\nContrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\nCash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\nMust've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\nI'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\nYour aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\nAin't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\nAll over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\nCan't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n\nThis ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\nThere's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\nMake it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\nWhile we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\nI declare that only live - rap this year\nJam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n\nRock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\nWhen the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.08] Yo\n[00:00.93] This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n[00:03.31] And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n[00:06.42] You need to stop\n[00:09.15] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:14.27] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[00:17.13] There's always one (one)\n[00:18.33] Wonder why\n[00:19.64] Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n[00:24.62] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[00:28.08] The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n[00:33.53] Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n[00:38.84] Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n[00:43.84] Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n[00:49.19] I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n[00:54.26] This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n[00:59.79] Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n[01:04.84] Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n[01:10.29] I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n[01:15.67] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[01:21.58] Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n[01:26.98] I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n[01:30.90] Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n[01:36.33] Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n[01:41.38] Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n[01:46.56] I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n[01:51.66] Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n[01:56.92] Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n[02:02.05] All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n[02:07.33] Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n[02:12.58] This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n[02:17.52] There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n[02:22.86] Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n[02:28.09] While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n[02:34.74] I declare that only live - rap this year\n[02:39.10] Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n[02:48.85] Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n[02:52.47] When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n[02:56.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Declaration\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mo'\n  duration_ms: 176000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 80\n  end_ms: 930\n- text: This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n  start_ms: 930\n  end_ms: 3310\n- text: And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n  start_ms: 3310\n  end_ms: 6420\n- text: You need to stop\n  start_ms: 6420\n  end_ms: 9150\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 9150\n  end_ms: 14270\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 14270\n  end_ms: 17130\n- text: There's always one (one)\n  start_ms: 17130\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Wonder why\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 19640\n- text: Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n  start_ms: 19640\n  end_ms: 24620\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 24620\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 33530\n- text: Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n  start_ms: 33530\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 59790\n- text: Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  start_ms: 59790\n  end_ms: 64840\n- text: Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n  start_ms: 64840\n  end_ms: 70290\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n  start_ms: 70290\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 81580\n- text: Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n  start_ms: 81580\n  end_ms: 86980\n- text: I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n  start_ms: 86980\n  end_ms: 90900\n- text: Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n  start_ms: 90900\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 101380\n- text: Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n  start_ms: 101380\n  end_ms: 106560\n- text: I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  start_ms: 106560\n  end_ms: 111660\n- text: Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  start_ms: 111660\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 122050\n- text: All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  start_ms: 122050\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 132580\n- text: This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n  start_ms: 132580\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 142860\n- text: Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  start_ms: 142860\n  end_ms: 148090\n- text: While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n  start_ms: 148090\n  end_ms: 154740\n- text: I declare that only live - rap this year\n  start_ms: 154740\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 168850\n- text: Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n  start_ms: 168850\n  end_ms: 172470\n- text: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n  start_ms: 172470\n  end_ms: 176120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 176120\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  This girl called me the other day (hi Pos)\n  And said I'm back in style, yo, uh (heard your shit, back in style, baby)\n\n  You need to stop\n  I declare that only live - rap this year\n  Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  There's always one (one)\n  Wonder why\n  Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains (there it is)\n  I declare that only live - rap this year\n\n  The average MC sells terror, we nail terror up against the wall for target practice\n  Not one of your top five MCs, but I see clearly with ease, you lack this\n  Coast to coast, we pop up on your scene like toast, playin' host to your regiment\n  Who rally to boast, but now boast no more, they got floored by the sight of my ledger print\n  I came specifically to fracture your ability to grandstand anywhere next to me\n  This is the year when the true better man keeps the cheddar and writes to his destiny (word)\n  Timeless episodes of talent got me nominated by the ones who hated me on spittin' tighter\n  Salute these super MCs for bein' clever and never usin' weed as a ghostwriter\n\n  I declare that only live niggas rap this year (come on)\n  Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n  Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment (yeah, word up)\n  I declare that only live niggas rap this year\n\n  Contrary to popular truth, these youth are runnin' scared, so in one stare, they gettin' strapped\n  Cash rules nothin' from below the belt, the dick choose to melt, askin' where them dollars at (where them dollars at?)\n  Must've been bitten by a rabbit actin' silly like that, your pop culture need a diaper change\n  I'm snatchin' the mic like I'm lootin' with a whole lot of shootin' while you're keepin' out of sniper range\n  Your aim's to please, my aim's to freeze you dead center in your tracks with your hands high\n  Ain't no tricks, we set it to fire like Hendrix, all the hard rocks are liquefied\n  All over the scene, makin' it messy, so we make a clean getaway to a better day\n  Can't say the same for them cats who left the game 'cause they couldn't claim the better pay\n\n  This ain't no masquerade, so the mass parade of people need to stop frontin' (stop frontin')\n  There's truly a few makin' them hits, while us, we got our mitts closed 'cause you on the field buntin'\n  Make it to third base, but never reach home, the word is, your whereabouts is unknown\n  While we're that point of view that you never really knew with the stitch to keep the cut sewn (De La)\n\n  I declare that only live - rap this year\n  Jam's off the meter, yo, this - is hot\n\n  Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top\n  When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, rock\n"}]