Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hip-Hop Black Ops, artist - Canibus. Date of issue: 18.01.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hip-Hop Black Ops |
| The Nephilium Pharaoh, the three thousand year old scarecrow |
| Hang you from your nose on a square pole |
| The squid faced rock beast with swamp croc teeth |
| And a two headed parrot with a desert fatigue beak |
| Step out the depths of Hell, exhale sceptic smells |
| Decorate my bitch breasts with bells |
| The arthropod tentacles controlled by mental vegetables |
| Calculated correctitude down to the decimal |
| Spectacles of doom and gloom and sonic booms |
| Republicans ride brooms around nuclear mushrooms |
| You are safe from the nuclear fallout |
| Now you will crawl out into the hands of a monster now |
| The best emcee turned his launch codes over to me |
| On my command you will turn the key and we’ll see |
| You know nothing of discipline, you can never go where the Ripper’s been |
| The maze in those caves are infinite |
| Can’t stop, won’t stop, Hip Hop Black Ops |
| The aftermath aftershock is a disaster in a box |
| With a blue and red ribbon, your writtens were uploaded to the system |
| The satellite showed me your position |
| The text is a sick rep for Rippers |
| The leaders have discovered we the sickest and they wanna sit with us |
| Through the computer viewer cube like peritubular |
| Project: Blueberry Fuscia, one of the two possible futures |
| Revolution Ripper movement you can’t stop it |
| You can’t change the outcome, stop resisting stupid |
| I write what some would call marathon songs |
| The music industry tried to banish long bars |
| Your story is weak, your inventory’s shorter than your feet |
| Every week I slaughter seven beats |
| I’m the 'Beast from the East' |
| My title can’t be touched nowhere on the street |
| I hear a lot of emcees speak |
| They fail to recognise that it ain’t about beef |
| I took it to the streets, I took it to the stage |
| If I believe I am not the illest I’m insane |
| The vocal spitter serial killer |
| Heads up display with a ticker and a pitcher and picture of the Ripper |
| Neurotransmitters hooked up to his central nervous system |
| It feeds him the purpose and the vision |
| Jailbreak but not out of prison |
| Internal hard drive spinning eighty-eight lyrics per minute |
| For global transmission, the funky technician on a mission |
| Strapped to a suicide written |
| Inside my own mind scripting altruistic composition |
| Musician, wisdom is God-given |
| Anoint him with oil, anoint him with wine |
| Anoint them both with Tesla coils if they quoin my rhymes |
| I make things real, I make things that ain’t, sound I’ll |
| A very good screen writing skill |
| My higher self is outside the realm where time is felt |
| Inside Orion’s Belt, get them |