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 midi’em, 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, sense, 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 niggas 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 nigga 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 niggas that are spellbound / They'll probably say that you talk too much / They gotta think too much / So just be careful who you trust

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, X-Files

Peace