[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