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Artist: De La Soul f/ The Spirit of The Wu
Album:  You're Welcome
Song:   Get Away
Typed by:

...Knahmsayin I want to give y'all a little announcement man
For the last year there's been a lot of music comin out
the shit been weak, knowhatI'msayin?
A lot of niggaz trying to take hip-hop
and make that shit R&B, rap and bullshit yaknowhatI'msayin?
Or make that shit funk
Fuck that, this is MCin right here, this is hip-hop

And like the Wu, we bring it to you in the purest form
We reside far away from the norm
Scorn from the big catch, the big bang, big breaks
Fetch pasts in pens even with the pencils
Rap label study us, flooded us with stencil
That's Tinseltown, murder your display
and we stay flyin even when the terrorists is tryin
This to that town, monitor the pat down
Serchin for controlled substance with sustenance 
We inventors of the drug, ever since DayGlo 
covers broke pots, green baloons
The black shirts sayin +Stakes+ elevate at noon
AOI grind, you hear it, understand
We steer it, some choose to veer it off the course
The main source missin, you pay no dues
You earn no pension, learn the rules
You can either be the pimp or the pimped-out fools
Wack niggaz do not forget

Stop runnin up on niggaz with all that wack shit

Word up man 

Talking about you MC's

You ain't no MC

[Posdnuos] me; I bake work from art 
While labels worry 'bout artwork or top of the chart perks
You need to insert a lot more, that original tier
that you can't manage, just causin damage
So just go ("WHAT!") get away from here
You're fuckin the game up, too low to aim up
So just go ("WHAT!") get away from here

And some'll believe that they're leaders
Young fella, you a 2-liter
Sippin water weight, drownin out the sauce
This lesson is a line with a undergrad course
Well sharpen your +Papermate+, my #2s'll make the +Bic+/beac-on shine in you
The fine lining is detailed, the garment is retailed
But I don't buy rap or excuses
The code used to be an unspoken device
But since that's gone, you see what rap produces
("Yaknahmsayin...") The one on one, two on twos
assembled in the center of squares like statues
("Word up") Understand I just do this, I don't have to

YaknowhatI'msayin?  This is hip-hop right here
YaknowhatI'msayin?  This is lyrics

But you wouldn't know that feelin if it slapped you
Like new credit, the blood work's indebted
Microphone donor, two pints'll get right
I got my cardio up, my nigga ("WHAT!")
Don't give a damn about a party, I do it for the body
Upchuck ya mandible, the scramble is back
Since the two-inch tape, how ample is that?
Like furry dice hangin off the mirror
You position is concernin my vision
These objects seem to be closer than they appear
And they could never catch up, they directions don't match up
Just go ("WHAT!") Get away from here
You're jammin the lane up, messin the game up
Just go ("WHAT"!) Get away from here~!