[Canibus]
n***** running around like, "what did he say?" //
All day, everyday, "what did he say?" //
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?" //
[Canibus]
Yo //
I don't want to waste no lyrics talking about you //
Just let my body die and rot in hell why don't you //
You asked the same question, I already told you //
I'm a lyricist, I do what I'm supposed to do //
You ever wonder what Hip-Hop would have been without me? //
I'm six albums deep, somebody is thinking about me //
Whether it's good or bad, yo, I can't control it //
A n****'s opinion belongs to him; I can't own it //
I microphone this with my own way of doing things //
All my rhymes really do is provoke you to think //
People don't care about your passion when they coming at you //
All they ever see is record sales and dollar value //
What the f*** does it matter what I'm rapping to? //
I can rhyme a capella and attract the youth //
If you want to compromise, we can do that too //
But I ain't never in the mood to drink no wack juice //
The bottom line is I need a bigger budget //
Advertising is how you program the public //
People don't have to understand to love something //
As long as they see it enough, they just trust it, that's why I'm like f*** it //
I might as well do what I do best //
And that's rip a microphone to shreds //
Even the best confessed, at some point in they life, they said //
That I'm the illest, but now they want you to forget //
So I accept the bitter with the sweet, mix it with some heat //
Show them how to emcee, and spit it to a beat //
I can do it in my sleep, n**** //
If I'm awake, how the f*** you gon' compete, n****? The nerve of these n***** //
I move like my shadow is weightless //
Expose myself like a faceless, plastic surgery patient //
Transmitting from an undisclosed location //
Pirate stations with phantom frequency modulations //
My throat-pistol spit ghost-signals //
And you never get the antidote from me, 'cause I bit you //
Stab you with a jagged crystal, 'cause my energy emit through //
Anything metallic, even a pencil //
Feel the bush burn, turn your cornrow into a good perm //
My flat-feet with no curves squish worms //
The bad news is I got a tight flow //
The good news is I just switched to Geico //
This is Hip-Hop n**** //
Listen to the voice go drip-drop n**** //
Swimmers in my saliva river drown when I give it to them //
The hemispheres of my brain got a river through it; gray-matter fluid //
The mic is a spark-plug //
When I grab it, I glow, come with that Edelbrock carburetor flow //
When I yolk back the choke full-throttle and go for broke //
I've become a G.O.A.T. ripper on a positive note //
The width of my rap, too thick to fit through the gap //
The viscosity of my spit lubricates the track //
Touch the VAT-lit screen, illuminate the map //
Show me where you at; show me how you plan to get back //
My navigation better than yours, and even though you the best //
Hip-Hop is my house; you still my guest //
You want more, I give you less //
You want less, I give you more 'till you swimming in it up to your neck //
Listen to the words bouncing off the lungs in my chest //
Hitting you from every angle like p****-s** //
Still here 'cause the Lord knows best //
Last thing he said to me was, "let them know 'Bis," I'ma let them know this //
Nobody contends with Canibus //
When it comes to rhymes; everybody pales in comparison //
Word //
Nobody compares to Canibus //
Hip-Hop is Yeng, Canibus is Yang to balance it //
[Canibus]
n***** running around like, "what did he say?" //
All day, everyday, "what did he say?" //
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?" //
n***** running around like, "what did he say?" //
All day, everyday, "what did he say?" //
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?" //
[Canibus]
Yo //
I don't want to waste no lyrics talking about you //
Just let my body die and rot in hell why don't you //
You asked the same question, I already told you //
I'm a lyricist, I do what I'm supposed to do //
You ever wonder what Hip-Hop would have been without me? //
I'm six albums deep, somebody is thinking about me //
Whether it's good or bad, yo, I can't control it //
A n****'s opinion belongs to him; I can't own it //
I microphone this with my own way of doing things //
All my rhymes really do is provoke you to think //
People don't care about your passion when they coming at you //
All they ever see is record sales and dollar value //
What the f*** does it matter what I'm rapping to? //
I can rhyme a capella and attract the youth //
If you want to compromise, we can do that too //
But I ain't never in the mood to drink no wack juice //
The bottom line is I need a bigger budget //
Advertising is how you program the public //
People don't have to understand to love something //
As long as they see it enough, they just trust it, that's why I'm like f*** it //
I might as well do what I do best //
And that's rip a microphone to shreds //
Even the best confessed, at some point in they life, they said //
That I'm the illest, but now they want you to forget //
So I accept the bitter with the sweet, mix it with some heat //
Show them how to emcee, and spit it to a beat //
I can do it in my sleep, n**** //
If I'm awake, how the f*** you gon' compete, n****? The nerve of these n***** //
I move like my shadow is weightless //
Expose myself like a faceless, plastic surgery patient //
Transmitting from an undisclosed location //
Pirate stations with phantom frequency modulations //
My throat-pistol spit ghost-signals //
And you never get the antidote from me, 'cause I bit you //
Stab you with a jagged crystal, 'cause my energy emit through //
Anything metallic, even a pencil //
Feel the bush burn, turn your cornrow into a good perm //
My flat-feet with no curves squish worms //
The bad news is I got a tight flow //
The good news is I just switched to Geico //
This is Hip-Hop n**** //
Listen to the voice go drip-drop n**** //
Swimmers in my saliva river drown when I give it to them //
The hemispheres of my brain got a river through it; gray-matter fluid //
The mic is a spark-plug //
When I grab it, I glow, come with that Edelbrock carburetor flow //
When I yolk back the choke full-throttle and go for broke //
I've become a G.O.A.T. ripper on a positive note //
The width of my rap, too thick to fit through the gap //
The viscosity of my spit lubricates the track //
Touch the VAT-lit screen, illuminate the map //
Show me where you at; show me how you plan to get back //
My navigation better than yours, and even though you the best //
Hip-Hop is my house; you still my guest //
You want more, I give you less //
You want less, I give you more 'till you swimming in it up to your neck //
Listen to the words bouncing off the lungs in my chest //
Hitting you from every angle like p****-s** //
Still here 'cause the Lord knows best //
Last thing he said to me was, "let them know 'Bis," I'ma let them know this //
Nobody contends with Canibus //
When it comes to rhymes; everybody pales in comparison //
Word //
Nobody compares to Canibus //
Hip-Hop is Yeng, Canibus is Yang to balance it //
[Canibus]
n***** running around like, "what did he say?" //
All day, everyday, "what did he say?" //
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?" //