one two
De La Soul, is now back on the map
Long Island, is now back on the map
Good rap music, is now back on the map
Yo check one two,
this is the voice of yours truly the Flava Flav
And I just want y'all to know,
we ain't goin' nowhere
Old school is here to stay boy!
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke,
and murk to get murked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but stays right in my
N.y. Mentality for me to
be the best
The current, the ones who weren't
Pressed, to confess lies over hot joints
To sell to all who want to hear
some
(Youngins these days got
fireproof eardrums!)
They don't give a shit who's hot
Just long as you're not, pussy,
and be the would- be King
But once crowned,
the same want to pull you down
(And what makes the
world go 'round!)
And I be the world renowned
wonder why
Wonderin' why you can't
stand me
Is it because I'm the main Jackson
And y'all just Titos and
Randys? (Yes, it is!)
Bless the kid who hold his own
head and expect to last
At the same time, I want respect and cash
And a few paragraphs in them books
Tellin' you how us Native Tongues
made hits with no hooks
Rapped in every prefixes,
gave birth to rap remixes back in '88
No disrespect to Diddy just
settin' it straight
Instead of zig- zag gin',
got a degree in braggin'
My daughter says I'm a teen,
cause like a teen
My pants always saggin'
and I walk with a bop
The sag's part of my time,
my walk from my pops
No longer on timey and
was never on Loud
But cooked rhymes that make
the Chefs of Wu proud
I'm top cloud to rain on your show
And still "anything goes when
it comes to hoes" because
Town (come on) come on down!
Make you shake like, sunshine,
naked shoe was once mine
Had bottom inner drawers
and used to hit it from the mids
Fix your playground player
or some kids'll
Come stomp in your sandbox,
swollen hands cocked back
No knives, no drama, no guns
No disrespectin' your seed or Ma Dukes
I puke rhyme and you laugh,
take a sniff
Of these fricasseed raps
on Caribbean riffs
See last night's change was
today's dough money
No time for your freestyles so
roll money
No more wack albums with two joints
No more ballplayin' rappers who
shoot ya two points
(No more G 'cause I'm sick
of your hip- hop!)
Your flows bore like seashores
with no bitches
Switch hittin' niggaz will
receive no pitches
No diamonds on the field,
just keep the game real
Simple, see the God flows healthy
Wealth in the mind is like
money in the bank
Exchange cash like thoughts
in conversation
Thank you for your purchases,
we dough out
And roll out the cool- Aid,
see us pimp strut
Ain't really pimpin',
I'm tryin' to catch the bus
The Krush Groove ain't got shit
on Cold Crush!
We dolly dolly babies 'cause we
shootin' cats
'Back to the Future' rap with
Doc Brown shotgunnin' it
And pantyhose your whole
style and start runnin' it
You dudes fiddle while we stay
on the cello
The mush- in- your- room son,
we stay portobello
Can't settle for the same
picket white fence
I got dreams of barbed wire
in front of factories par
Still push the truck with the factories par
I'm bound to wreck the whip and turn insurance out,
make 'em shout
D.c. (come on) Oakland
Flava
Flav, with De La Soul
Act bold, and we knock
you straight up in the hole
You know what I'm sayin'? Six feet deep,
that's the way that we keep, rollin'
You know what I'm sayin'? Operation
tech sensation in the nation
Ready to take it to Penn Station,
you know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, ah ha ha ha
Long Iz one is,
that's where we is man haha
De La Soul, you did it again!
De La Soul, you did it again! Hahaha
De La Soul, you done it again!
Flava Flava, De La Soul,
you done
it again!
De La Soul 
