Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Salute, artist - Canibus. Album song C Of Tranquility, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.10.2010
Record label: iMCulture, Interdependent Media
Song language: English
Salute |
The war drums sound like a hundred guns fired at once |
For an entire month |
Can-I-Bus? |
You know you can (4x) |
Involuntary muscle spasm assassin busts with a passion |
Listen to how Canibus re-enact this |
Poor rappers fall victim to the metaphor master |
Drill your ass raw for ice core data |
An earthquake machine beam powered by a crystal |
Scalene in hydro, no pulse signal |
Lyrically wave-theory like Timothy Leary |
So you don’t have to understand me to hear me, you feel me? |
Barely, the quickening happens in between |
In the Elohim Lord Lizard King with the Ripper conditioning |
Partitioning with the Fischer King eating chicken wings |
My fingertips are glistening but I’m listening |
Yeah, the master observes how rappers use vernacular |
To fail to capture the meaning attached to the words |
Hip-Hop melismas, career suicide |
Killer Ripper spits to the sustained pitch mixed and chopped |
To add a counter point, mix a master that drops |
Complex and confusing, I’m laughing because it’s hot |
The super duper uber music conductor producer from the future |
Stuff tubas with gunpowders to improvise bazookas |
Colder than killer cobras over Jehovah |
Delta soldiers in blimp balloon gondolas with stealth motors |
They watch over us, told me where to go |
But I can only take both of us so you better soldier up |
Size, activity, location, unit |
Time and equipment: What you going to do with it? |
Salute, that’s what they do when I rip it |
I proved it, I did it, «D-R Period» was in the booth when I spit it |
Bread and Butter, Nigga |
Beyond Canibus motherfucker, broken Language the hustler |
Starboard rudder, the Coast Guard Cutter |
I’m the studio night-owl, stress give me white eyebrows |
Who the fuck I got to fight with now? |
Yeah, conspicuous characters creep through America |
With a killer chemical in a canister called Canibus |
Crazy as crystal communicate correct signal |
They call it criminal, I call it lyrical |
Call the Commissioner I’m going to crucify the Christian Caligula |
Like they crucified M.C. |
Christopher |
I cast the Canibus symbol in the crowd |
If there’s beef on the ground, I’m going to carve the cow |
Now, smuggle contraband through the canal |
I check my clip on my chamber, sharpshooter style |
La Costa Nostra, deep like Deepak Chopra |
I kick your door down in loafers |
.45 in the holster, AK in the baby stroller |
Babies with baking soda, my lady in the Rover |
A midget with dreadlocks down to his toes |
With flows I expose what nobody knows |