Star-struck MCs receive no attention From the man whose mind is not even in this dimension I'm on another plane, sicker than the mother brain The ultimate expression, yes indeed Heed, my flow's symphonic, hypnotic, psychotic Never semiotic but doper than narcotics A few a y'all caught it on my first release But now my power's increased, enhanced Del meets the fans halfway, and slap a rapper in his chops The temperature drops, you get pneumonia Or maybe exposed to radiation by plutonium Some say rap's an idiom, get the A-S-R-S-P And then a medium, the best of both worlds Brilliantly engineered, lyrics dement your fear Del is now in the clear, I was in prison But now free to be everything that I envision Abandon the plan and the uninspired And the haters that cater to their needs agree It's bizarre, by far anarchy no control No soul, the whole fucking planet's gonna fold Unless we administer, since, as we enter the Twenty-first century even your worst enemy Gotta get it together, mentally and systematically When niggers think I'm a smart-ass, it makes em mad at me Why, cause I try my best to eliminate ignorance Not letting my brain burn out like cigarettes There's bigger threats besides thieves or your pet peeves But what's right in your face is what nobody believes
[CHORUS] Del, what you got up your sleeve? If it was up to me I would pass the baton cause it's tough to lead But still I drop facts here and there so I can up the seed So you must believe
Del, what you got up your sleeve? If it was up to me I would pass the baton cause it's tough to lead But still I drop facts here and there so I can up the seed So you must believe X-Files
Lots of rappers today depend on imagery I myself depend on skills and my energy It's maddening, at every single gathering Of young black youth it's got to be some niggers badgering Averaging out to be bout three out a G How motherfuckers build stereotypes, cause it's all they see I take glee in the fact that I'm me Not a follower, a dollar wouldn't make me sell my soul Del is old-school compared to your subterfuge I got the same code of ethics Jungle Brothers use Now every nigger wanna be crime related Can't rhyme creative and they're made of self-hatred That's why they overstep boundaries that's sacred From the street to the corporate scene they all mean business Self for self, phony doesn't work Your soul holds no weight when you let the devil lurk Fighting evildoers I been evil myself But I'm still a black man with experience, under my belt I may be young, but my soul is old Living in the ice ages where a nigga's soul is cold Don't give a fuck about your life or his But if you get a gat for protection, who lives? Comin up ain't the same as pullin everybody else down But try telling that to niggers that are spellbound They'll probably say that you talk too much They gotta think too much So just be careful who you trust