Lyrics The C-Quel - Canibus

The C-Quel

I’ll battle you on the net, I’ll battle you in the flesh
I’ll battle you over the phone you can call me collect
Verbally viscious, telekenetically gifted,
Took a minute to exhibit that I’m sick with it Have you any idea what I’ll do to crews like you
How many niggaz in my career I’ve ran through
At 1000 degrees celsius I make Emcees melt,
Fuck my record label I appear courtesy of myself
Canibus is the type to fight for mics,
beatin’niggaz to death and beatin’dead niggaz to life
While you niggaz is babblin’my lyrics is travelin'
like a javelin to stab you in the abdomen
The intellectual athelete accurately rappin’so rapidly,
Yet he makes perfect sense mathematically
I walk the B-Lock withe the G-Lock, C-ocked,
trynna’get the DR-op on the C-ops
The Canibus is a animal with a mechanical mandible
comin’to damage you spittin’understandable slang at you
Rhymes richocet off the inner walls of my lungs
and go past the tongue faster than bullets come out of guns
Whenever the head is severed from the human body
with a sharp enough weapon the brain remains conscious for 10 seconds
What’s the matter with ya’ll, I’ll spatter ya’ll,
against the muthafuckin’wall with these raw lyrics I catapault
I’ll hop into the back seat of a cab and rhyme,
Till the meter says 9, 9, 9, 9!!!
Yea, it’s the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo!
I’m hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores
To every single pore in my skull
Hard from my mouth to my jaws
>From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored
And from my balls in my draws to the floor
I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War
So I can start World War 4 and murder us all
I don’t give a fuck if you rich or you poor
Don’t give a fuck if you got ya’picture in the Source of Forbes
I don’t give a fuck who won an award
On stage tryna’thank God I’ll chop ya’tongue off wit’a sword
Let they blood pour all on the floor
If it ain’t a cordless, you gettin’punched in the jaw and hung wit’the cord
I’ll leave ya’corpse stiff as a board
Like frozen meat tryna’thaw then bury you under the morge
Gettin’in my way is like jumpin’in front of a car
Breakin’the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn
By the time you hear it blowin', it’s too late to respond
By the time you feel it hit chu, I’m gone
I’ll send ya’to hell where you belong
So by the time ya’body hits the floor
Ya’spirit won’t be in it no more
Who could flow for 4 minutes or more
Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws
I got millions of styles and I mastered’em all
A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bullcharge and crash in the wall
(OVERLAP 2)
Whoever grabs the mic after me’ll get booed
Get everything in the club thrown at you and ya’crew
I’m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it,
I’ll snatch ya’crown with ya’head still attached to it
I battle you the respect, I’ll battle you over a blank check
I’ll battle you with a gun to my neck
Ambushin’emcees, jumpin’out the trees like Vietnamese
in fatigues covered with leaves
Next year, you’ll be walkin’around the How Can I Be Down
conference with a laminate, that said I Got Shitted-On By Canibus
Turn ya’head round gimmie the cheddar,
I’d rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever
Fuck ya’ll, you don’t impress me and no one can test me,
an emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin’on
Debatin’on what the fuck is takin’so long
Well I’m here now, verbal ass whippins bout to get shared out
Wack niggas bout to get aired out
Faggit niggas get they ass teared out
Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin’beard out
Cold beat a niggas ass like Stout
Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin’courtroom and watch it clear out
A hundred thousand mile warranty
Metaphorically, I’ll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally
I took a lion on tour wit’me, made him respect authority
Smacked him in the head for trynna’roar at me Lyrics got my undivided loyalty
And there ain’t nothin’on this God damn planet that’s worth more to me In the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me Torture me, slice me then stitch me up like embroidery
Way back before gold-plated male and female
RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback
I was trynna’blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack?
I’d beat his ass and took my tape back
Yea nigga What?
Yeah nigga take that
Anybody get outta’line, get they face slapped
Quick fast, the Can-I-Bus'll buss yo’ass
Then I’ll bust you wit’a shotgun blast
It’s not fun so I don’t laugh
To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one
You know how you be feelin’sad
That’s how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don’t understand
Canibus is unequivocably the illest killin’machine in the industry
For the 20th century
Trapped in a max security building
Sufferin’from a severe illness called brillance (echoes)