Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Punch Lines, artist - Canibus. Album song Hip-hop For $ale, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.11.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Punch Lines |
Follow us into a new era |
Where lyrical content is a MUST! |
We cut microphones like, gangsters holdin chrome |
Like, Toto you far from home |
Like, words spoken wrong will never help you reach excellence |
Stop bitin like you got a speech impediment |
When will you learn? |
Whack lyrics and a hot beat makes your song irrelevant |
This is not a movie |
I’m a poet so it takes more than punchlines to move me |
Can-I-Bus, your favorite rap star on ice |
What I talk on the mic make them call on Christ |
As far as the eye can see, gaze out into the wide sea |
Look for the island, the island is me |
I heard Fat Joe said, I was over in Iraq |
He said I was a soldier in lyrical combat |
Other people slandered my name but I dodged that |
They don’t see the missing pieces my thesis provides rap |
Under the influence, bang 'Bis music in a Bonneville Buick |
I see your face, I’mma crash into it |
Lyrically I kick ass, if you don’t wanna know don’t ask |
I might do it pro bono for no cash |
The two-handed choke from the hope |
Turn your brain and skull to sand and salt, sprinkle you on the floor |
I didn’t wanna rap like that, but I had to |
Cause that’s what my master would do if he was asked to |
The perfect music machine, mechanical being |
The most lyrical digital streams the world has ever seen |
I did, I do, I does, I am, I will be, I was |
The same nigga you love |
Yo, I hope they film this shit, cause I’m 'bout to blaze you |
And get it on tape too, I’m 'bout to Kay Slay you |
Somebody gon' grab you — try to escape |
Hold you down while I perform on your face |
Why you sound like that, why you tear the mic down like that |
Why you sound so intense when you rap |
The airborne attack you can’t call off |
Breathe exhaust like a horse or a supercharged Mustang Ford |
Drugs rain from the sky, it’s like the angels want me to die |
They push me harder cause they want me to try |
A pitbull off the leash, barkin speech |
Like a bull in the pit, liftin you off your feet |
I feel like the world’s mine, I can park in the streets |
Kick the world’s illest rhyme, police officers weak |
People layin on the concrete, exhausted from heat |
Watchin John Kerry spit over Michael Moore beats |
This is a little somethin that my repertoire boast |
I almost, was in control of all coasts… |
I get advanced rhymes to quote, they all dope |
Tote a lyrical landslide, give me all votes |
But I can be as quiet as they want me to be |
Cause even though they say my name, they ain’t talkin to me |
They talk to magazines, they talk to MTV |
They up on 106 on BET talkin to Free |
Big niggas actin tough, but they walk like they ankles is cuffed |
Who gives a FUCK if your ankles is buff |
I can ar-ticulate, I wanna participate |
But they tryin to hold me back, a black ball number eight |
I pick the microphone up and spark the debate |
Ever since ninety-eight I been a target for hate |
Jesus Christ! |
My name should be He-Bus Mic |
Even when I rip the shit, fans leave uptight |
But I don’t know if I’m right no more |
But I don’t know if I’m right no more |