DR Period - Salute lyrics

The war drums sound like a hundred guns fired at once For an entire month Can-I-Bus? You know you can (4x) Involuntary muscle spasm a**a**in busts with a pa**ion Listen to how Canibus re-enact this Poor rappers fall victim to the metaphor master Drill your a** raw for ice core data An earthquake machine being powered by a crystal Scalene in hydro, no pulse signal Lyrically wave-theory like Timothy Leary So you don't have to understand me to hear me, you feel me? Barely, the quickening happens in between In the Elohim Lord Lizard King with the Ripper conditioning Partitioning with the Fischer King eating chicken wings My fingertips are glistening but I'm listening Yeah, the master observes how rappers use vernacular To fail to capture the meaning attached to the words Hip-Hop melismas, career suicide k**er Ripper spits to the sustained pitch mixed and chopped To add a counter point, mix a master that drops Complex and confusing, I'm laughing because it's hot The super duper uber music conductor producer from the future Stuff tubas with gunpowders to improvise bazookas Colder than k**er cobras over Jehovah Delta soldiers in blimp balloon gondolas with stealth motors They watch over us, told me where to go But I can only take both of us so you better soldier up Size, activity, location, unit Time and equipment: What you going to do with it? Salute, that's what they do when I rip it I proved it, I did it, "D-R Period" was in the booth when I spit it Bread and bu*ter, n***a Beyond Canibus motherf**er, broken Language the hustler Starboard rudder, the Coast Guard Cutter I'm the studio night-owl, stress give me white eyebrows Who the f** I got to fight with now? Yeah, conspicuous characters creep through America With a k**er chemical in a canister called Canibus Crazy as crystal communicate correct signal They call it criminal, I call it lyrical Call the Commissioner I'm going to crucify the Christian Caligula Like they crucified M.C. Christopher I cast the Canibus symbol in the crowd If there's beef on the ground, I'm going to carve the cow Now, smuggle contraband through the can*l I check my clip on my chamber, sharpshooter style La Costa Nostra, deep like Deepak Chopra I kick your door down in loafers .45 in the holster, AK in the baby stroller Babies with baking soda, my lady in the Rover A midget with dreadlocks down to his toes With flows I expose what nobody knows