canibus – freestyle 97 lyrics
yo!, i speak at frequencies dogs would have trouble hearing
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 comes to spittin’
cause i’m over-qualified for the position
the laser-guided lyrical hybrid creating scripts so sick
i gotta arm-wrestle my pen to write it
don’t get excited
cause if i ever catch one of you wannabees bitin
we gonna be fist-fightin
so mother-f-ckers, what you want? i got the shotgun, pumped
you feel like a frog n-gga then jump
i possess the lyrical ammo to battle
i’ll rip any one of you warm-blooded mammals to shambles
i’ll make examples of you and eat a mouthful of your crew
the kind of mc you can’t outdo
i battle you on the ‘net, i battle you in the flesh
i battle you over the phone, you can call me collect
i battle you for the respect, i battle you over a blank check
i battle you with a gun to my neck
i battle you standing over the toilet with my d-ck out
i battle you juggling a hand-grenade with the pin out
in a stolen car with the vin number ripped out
drinking a guinness stout doing a 360 spin-out
i stay righteous like farrakahn puffing on the marijuana
you understand where i’m coming from?
you’re number 1, then i’m negative 2
basically n-gga that means i’m still better than you
basic mathematics the verbal mechanics of rhyming
behold, i crush a piece of coal and create a diamond
on the microphone i’m sicker than those
who have 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, shipwreck yachts
headshots hit you with 300 nautical knots
you calling the cops complaining about the hip hop
gettin benjmanis like the l-ocks; 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 are proof
i got more than just a couple screws loose
latinos call me da black jesus
so all who believe in telekenesis and jesus
i’ll touch a parapalegic and heal him
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