[Intro: Canibus & DJ Clue]
Word up!
Yo, what up? This is Canibus about to black out
Representin' Group Home, shout out to Lost Boyz, Def Squad, Charles Suite, Mr. Sex, DJ Clue, and Desert Storm
Let's drop it
[Verse 1: Canibus]
I speak in frequencies dogs would have trouble hearin'
Canibus is the lyrical version of German engineering
Raw metaphors keep you high for months
Fly around the earth twice without refueling once
Ain't too many categories I can fit in when it come to spittin'
'Cause I'm overqualified for the position
The laser guided lyrical hybrid
Creatin' scripts so sick, I gotta arm wrestle my pen to write it
Don't get excited 'cause if I ever catch one of you wannabe's bitin'
We're gonna be fist-fightin'
So motherf**ers what you want? I got the shotgun pumped
You feel like a frog n***a? Then jump
I posses the lyrical ammo to battle
And rip any one of you warm blooded mammals to shambles
I make examples of you and eat a mouth full of ya crew
The type of MC you can't out-do
I'll battle you on the net, I'll battle you in the flesh
I'll battle you over the phone you can call me collect
I'll battle you for the respect, I'll battle you over a blank check
I'll battle you with a gun to my neck
I'll battle you standin' over the toilet with my dick out
I'll battle you jugglin' a hand grenade with the pin out
In a stolen car with the VIN number ripped out
Drinkin' a Guinness Stout doin' a 360 spin-out
I stay righteous like Farrahkan puffin on the marijuan
You understand where I'm comin' from?
You number one and I'm negative two
Basically n***a that means I'm still better than you
Basic mathematics and verbal mechanics of rhymin'
Behold, I crush a piece of coal and create a diamond
On the microphone
I'm sicker than those who've Acquired Immune Deficiency
Syndromes
And every word I utter for hip-hop lovers
Will reflect forever like two mirrors facing each other
The baddest M-Other, F-Ucker
Let me break the style down so you don't have to wonder
I walk the B-Lock with G-Lock C-Ocked
Trying to get the D-R-Op on the C-Ops
Blow spots, capsize boats shipwrecked yachts
Head shots hit you at 300 nautical knots
You calling the cops complaining about the hip-hop
Getting Benjamin's like the L-Ox, it don't stop
Eh-eh, eh-eh, put away your burners you can't serve us
My whole camp is allergic to being murdered
Metaphors is proof I got more than just a couple screws loose
Latinos call me the Black Jesus
So for all who believe the telekinesis of Jesus
I touch a paraplegic and heal him