Yo, we come through like balls, nigga take two puffs and pass, nigga, watch your back once you talk out your ass I back up 3-80 and my stash for protection, family is raged, the world is acting crazy I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled on point like a knife living life as a gamble And living in the rotten apple, yo where every corner is rotten to all my niggas rest in peace to see you gone but not forgotten now my main wife, dead as shaded bricks, official Lost Boyz since the year of 86 And fuck these crooked niggas I could kill em with a passion, at times I feel like slashing in Jamaican Queens fashion You think you can fuck around, but kid you're just thinking It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking With blinking man, I'll tare your crew like pages I'll rip you from the backyard of (?) ... (A+) A plus the lyrically superb one, spittin rhymes from the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drums Rotten shit, make the opposite team call time out, knockin niggas three times my size out The crowd loves me, so when I aint around they ask for me, I buckle up to kick rap like a crash dummy For the fast money, I get up in that ass money the fact you tryin' to test me kinda bugs me I leave crews fed up, like handicap niggas tryin' to get up Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pillars, I blow up the spot when it's time to rock I speak through a mic my voice peak out of one-hundred watts Who wanna cipher, I get dumb word to my mother my father the holy ghost and Rev Run, When the Source set it down, I'm inner serviced To cop the kind of verses that average emcees seem to worship (Redman) My style is milking magnesia, clutch divide speeding bust the more the merrier, secure the area, my life familiar is ultimate superior we dont dont jack cars we jack for air craft carriers I bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the feces to pieces hymn em like sewing machines and Jesus When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my (?) Camarro I get punished like (?) for splittin' You're better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas, because I'm on point like bow and arrow equipment The president of chicken head conventions I give you a deluxe Ku Kux legend I got a headache from the stress, success not wearing a vest 5-11 for being dirty and quarts of 9-30 Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call police she tried swallowing a nine piece forgot the warrantee on false teeth I return like Makaveli on 18 inch Pirelli's assault and battery like my palms was ever ready sharp as mishedes matter of fact I slap (?) ... (Canibus) Canibus brings the sickest drama, fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor I smack bitches who try to suck dick through the condom Playing with the mic is something I wont do my only concern when I approach you, is to roast you I smoke you and whoever you standing close to and make every man in your crew deny that he knows you defeating, niggas like Segal Steven, putting Emcees in, positions to prevent them from breathing I'll make you question any and everything you've ever believed in by peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers, What's the matter with ya'll, I splatter ya'll against the mutha fuckin wall with these raw lyrics I catapult None of ya'll got the balls big enough to battle, I go On & On like Erykah Badu a hundred times nicer than the best is twice as African as KRS is, who wanna test this Fuck y'all you dont impress me and no one can test me An Emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me All that shit you poppin will stop, when I put you in a headlock, and apply pressure until I crush your mutha fuckin noggin I grab mics and push niggas to the left so fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests My hypothesis, is that nobody can see this lyrical genius, i got it sown like a seamstress But if you want to battle, I'm down, If you got nine lives, I'll take eight of them off your hands right now Step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear If you survive, then you can cover your scar with a beard I'm the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicks anyone who aint feeling my shidit can suck my didick You need to quit it, if you aint spittin more than 50 bars per minute cause you aint in lyrical fitness kicken boring raps with metaphors thats wack all of ya'll mutha fuckas need Nordatrack to get ya weight up, fuckin with Canibus you get ate up beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up been rockin longer than niggas twice my age back in the days before Bob Marley was rockin a fade before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves before neanderthals was drawing on walls in caves I existed, in the garden of Eden gettin lifted stickin dick to Eve before she was Adams mistress Before Christ created Christmas, I been in lyrical fitness The Canibus is spitten til' he's spitless 50 bars of total sickness, you wont forget this I'm putten every wack Emcee alive on my shit list verbally vicious, telekenetically gifted took you a minute, to exhibit that I'm sick wit it Now you tell me who you think is damaging shit going once, going twice Sold to that nigga name Canibus Me and Mr.Cheeks, A-Plus, and Funk Doctor hopping out the Hue helicopter to suey chop ya
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