(Canibus) Yo, I radiate like plutonium rods that glow Geiger-counters drum roll when I start to flow Patriarch with the heart of Napoleon Bonaparte Stomp across continents to conquer my art I'm a millennium lyricist, Area-51 physicist Rhymes hot enough to melt the wax off the turntable before the DJ even starts spinning it My raps could melt the wax right off the back of Kid Icarus Sharper than the shit you shank niggas with Sharper than scissor tips, sharper than rings on Rza's fist It's ridiculous how so many of you niggas figure that Maybe we can get a name if Canibus disses us I know how you niggas think You figure since you already a pussy you might as well give me syphilis Envious cause your rhymes are infinite And you're lyrically limited to the little boxes you're living in I'm as dangerous as they come, dangerous with or without a gun I've been dangerous from day one Rhyme flows explode like pyros Stick to your ribs like chicken and thick gravy from Roscoe's You get your head flown if you dumb in the dome Or struck with some stones till you feel numb in the bones You better keep your big mouth closed Before I stick the muzzle of my chrome in that hole under your nose Send a signal to my index and tell it to fold In the direction of my wrist bones to release your soul I told you to freeze, if I was you I would have froze But you chose the other route and got blown full of holes Pistol to your mug, cripple your tongue, rip through your lungs Write your name on your tombstone scribbled in blood Come on, give me a little love There anybody out there that never felt one rhyme that Canibus bus'ed? You a liar, liar, pants on fire Watch the Goat with the ghostwriter get slaughtered by a tiger Saw his video, uh, yeah Smeared his career like doo-doo inside a diaper My style is sicker than infected women and men I'm so raw I could catch AIDS without sticking it in Flip and dip like shrimps and scampi Switch my language like a black kid raised by a Spanish nanny To a level you could never explain Cause compared to me your brain is the size of a sand grain A real pain in the ass that got smacked for saying my name And now you look like a ass in pain Guess what? Got F'-ed up cause you shouldn't have stood up Sweeter than a handful of granulated sugar Niggas running they mouth like I can't get to them But watch the shit hit the fan when that cat Can pull up No question, get wrecked in less than a nanosecond For messing with me or my brethren You can't stop aggression, you can't hold back what's destine And you definitely can't coach perfection Be the only nigga standing after Armageddon Take a hammer and smash the stone your name was etched in Then I'll announce that I'm running for the new election Anybody with an objection gets the death-sentence Death by lethal-injection, death by being beheaded Death by getting shot with a weapon, but if you want to be remembered Then death by getting your head severed is an honorable way to end it
Yo, If I said it once, I say it a thousand times I've got thousands of rhymes, the rechargeable alkaline kind You want a piece of mine? Fine, we can take it outside Otherwise your wasting your time Cause I'm gonna shine past the one-triple-nine Niggas gamble and damage their eyes Going blind trying to keep up with these lyrical lines Type of nigga you can't flow behind without a dope rhyme Mess around and get clothes-lined till you nose-dive We can rhyme fair-and-square or fair in a sphere Anyplace, anywhere ya'll niggas ain't got a prayer Cause Doomsday is near, faggot niggas is scared They stand and stare as I appear upon a cushion of air With a long-white beard flaming Hot enough to sunburn Satan Hotter than white people taking vacation Out in Virginia, out in the sun baking Sun baking in gamma-ray radiation till they skin color look Cajun Mother-fuckers start aging till the point where they faces shrivel up like raisins And they become cancer patients This is how we do it when we chilling in the V-A Can-I-Bus getting busy on the P-A System, yeah, I get in em With a lyrical algorithm liable to kill em My style will get in em, way up in em Face don't belong on the Source, it should be on the Shroud of Turin for certain Grab mics and murder shit As wicked as Satan worshippers going to Catholic Church services You heard of this new lyrical verbalist
Yo, yo, yo, I kick a verse at six hundred and sixty-six megahertz Make lightening flash across the sky every time I curse Six hundred and sixty-six flashes Give out six hundred and sixty-six lashes To the backs of six hundred and sixty-six Masters of Ceremony has-beens Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is If he's a Catholic I'll nail him to a crucifix Then I'll beat him till he's blackish-blueish Then perform acupuncture with six hundred and sixty-six toothpicks Beat him with two whips with pieces of broken glass glued to it Your whole crew get spayed and neutered As soon as I aim and shoot it you get slayed with bullets Your armored cars and your Kevlar vests is useless I'm going to hit all of you pussies like group sex //Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
