[Intro]
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Yea, yea Can-I-Bus, Mic Club
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(Nothin' to prove it's all love)
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[Canibus:]
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I bust through like Sputnik 2
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This is man's best friend, whoopty-woo
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The flag is black, red, and blue
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True shoot from the hoopty
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Dogs jump out of dooly
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But it'll take more than that to move me
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Like; wireless mics for tireless nights
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Firefights inspire my life, why do I write?
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Twenty-year Hip-Hop vet, they perceive me as a threat
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They manifest beads of sweat
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Examine the blood trail
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Squeeze trigger puss drips out of the thumbnails
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I smell like gun shells
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Polonium, pandemonium with a dose of unknownium
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The Soviet Hugo Rodier
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Fourth generation roper report
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Everything I was taught bore resemblance to my thoughts
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The truth and design of the Guggenheim rhyme
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Where every line is weaponized then applied
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Mob shit, talk it acquisition is sick
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I don't miss when I twist the 556
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Stand there with arms folded
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Firearms make me look large and bloated
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("I'ma gonna have to project my voice")
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Equipment check, church bells time
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("Some of this stuff might get intense")
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One more time - Just kill 'em 'Bus
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Ain't nobody around to witness nothin'
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Heavens devil strangle Hell's Angel with a mic cable
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Then J Wells came through
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[Sample from Nas @ the L.A. Listening Party on December 14th, 2006:]
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"Yo, the niggaz that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like;
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B.I.G., 'Pac, (Right), even Canibus, like Eminem them niggaz use to have me like
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If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
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"Yo, the niggaz that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like;
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B.I.G., 'Pac, (Right), even Canibus, like Eminem them niggaz use to have me like
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If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
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[Canibus:]
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Yea, yo
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I support a secure change of custody
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Don't trust the beat, trust me Canibus the emcee
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Without movin' my neck I turn to the left
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Yes I am the best you'll learn to respect
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'Til your death, Hip-Hop is the body, you are the chest
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I am the vest, we are sworn to protect
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This behavioural bomb rewritable radio songs
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"What station is your radio on?"
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My trainin' is worth millions
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Imam death squad rush the building
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From the frontline with Prince William
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I am Prince William's exercise cover and concealment
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Prohibit the media from filming
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Never in the moment, always thinkin' of the Omen
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I pause soldiers, nobody told them
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Inoculate; I postulate not your weight
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Drop to your face, the active component will not break
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My Omanium friend tried to pay me in Yen
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I threw the money in his face and said "Pay me again"
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You wanna talk to the kid? Enter this ten digit grid
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I'll explain to you what I did
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"702-386-5397", call, leave a message
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Y'all niggaz can't rap, so why you wanna go and do that?
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You move the crowd, I move the map
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The defying mad Lion, triumph over the rulers of Zion
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Fuck your "Blood Diamonds", I'd rather laugh dyin'
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Miners in the mine shaft cryin'
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"Apocalypto" from GITMO, I'll clash with the last Mayans
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The Sun stone science, the black, red and blue alliance
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Jump through the fire, you'd be a fool to try it
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The fire suit don't fit, NO SHIT!
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My Saratoga suit got a customized grip
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With a batwing released for both wrist and both feet
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Blazing high, but I don't feel no heat
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Hip-Hop's master chief, "Here, have a seat"
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In the mic booth where I hang slab the meat
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Before, during, or after debrief
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I'll crack your teeth, don't talk unless if asked to speak
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The Rift Valley Fever symptoms could last for weeks
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We call a hell in a cell, watch the bastard tweak
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Reach 80¡Æ degrees North, 14¡Æ degrees East
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Beneath the ice sheet lies the Spitzberg Beast
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Transmission distorted, injuries reported
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Mission aborted, follow your orders, move forward
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BRAVO! I fell in love with you Suzanne Malveaux
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On the down-low, know you know
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She talked to the Canibus man
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Code name: "Javelin Fangz"
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With "Nothing to Prove" to the rap fans
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Could've elaborate further but suffice to say
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"God damn that emcee made my day"
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He's a butcher, a baker, a vapour box maker from Jamaica
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Still talkin' trash to the haters
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| I'll clash with the graders, this is m |
