Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 100 Bar Beast, artist - Canibus. Album song Lyrical Law, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Reverse Polarity
Song language: English
100 Bar Beast |
Javelins hawk within striking distance |
Alert to the sounds we hear, the rapid response verses in the air |
I smell the tobacco, we know that you’re here |
So does the white tail buck and the black bears |
What the fuck gave you the right? |
To come into the wilderness just to pick a fight? |
Whatever jurisdiction you from we rip mics |
The B-line of blood trail in the dim light |
Back to the kill site |
Come here city boy, I hear you’re real nice |
Surrounded by dark so far from the city lights |
Stop browsing, sniff downwind cowards |
You pissed yourself, you smell more foul than public housing |
Hardcore, parkour, tear off your car doors |
Fire-breathing gargoyles, eating hyenas, charbroiled |
Alien tongues long sharp but called predator claws |
I rip through the Kevlar for your heart |
'Till your lower body support lost |
The large carnivore Spitboss Beowulf rip your torsos off |
Float like the flying Albatross, part Mothman part wasp |
Ambush armour transport to the marsh |
Javelin Fangz, Germaine’s bombing raid campaign |
My hands change when I drink Beowulf bane |
You ain’t seen nothing nearly as strange |
Blurry as alien planes, still in the frame but nearly out of range |
Canines, Sons of Cain, impervious to pain |
Numb off cocaine, ripping railroad tracks off trains |
Deranged batshit insane, rhymes liquefy brains |
Daydreaming of rain, smoke haze and stargaze |
AKs spray photon rage, Sharpshooter sharp fangs |
Heart pumpin' napalm through coarse veins |
Speak to barmaids, breath reeks of Grand Marnier |
She says, «come on behave», I remove my dark shades |
Eyes buried behind wrinkles like Shar Peis |
I got a scarface from back in my dog days |
The posttraumatic microphone mechanic |
Leave the habitat damaged when I rat-a-tat that ratchet |
You fucking with the Sharpshooter Masters |
When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame |
Some will still remember it was done by Germaine |
In the beginning I made lyrics, now lyrics make me |
You’re listening to Rip The Jacker II: Infinity |
This rhyme can outlive your whole lifetime |
Be waiting for you on the other side when you arrive |
Surround you with a layer to the left, to the right |
To the front to the back, with a rap and a mic |
For satellite rappers delight, you battle for your life |
You battle from sunrise to off white moonlight |
The cedar wood burns, my heating is rightfully earned |
I take you on a journey through the words |
In the mind, hold your hand with an infinite rhyme |
For a time I know it makes you shy, but that’s fine |
Come along with me, let me show you how hard it can be |
To spit like the 100 Bar Beast |
An extra large dosage of the dopeness |
How can I be anything but focused as the spitbar soldier |
The rhyme equity above quota |
Sometimes I go over with more bars than the beat goes for |
Walk around confused, listening to tunes |
Music is my muse, Can-I-Bus this abuse? |
Put blades to your bones like the Autobiography of Kirk Jones |
Nah, I just work for him |
I will be redeemed for the destruction of the Hip Hop regime |
For how it was remembered and seen |
Mission requires a plan, armed personnel and staff |
But tradition demands I be a more primitive man |
Three standard 16s; |
fade the record at 3:35 |
Grim reaper axe, kick to your spine |
Pound after pound, I come stomp on your brain |
Spit fire like I drink hot sauce from a drain |
When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame |
Some will still remember it was done by Germaine |
When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame |
That’s when you know your times up Germaine |
Don’t forget you nice, you fit the right archetype |
Beating niggas to death and beating dead niggas to life |