| Yo, yo…
|
| Out on the battling tip my verbal lateral grip
|
| Keeps my tongue glued to the a-dat when Im trackin em swift
|
| Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips
|
| And make you rappers have fits cause Im back in the mix
|
| Forget a pad and a pen, I write rhymes on an ibm
|
| Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in Canibus practices in a room wit a thousand candles lit
|
| Meditating on this rapping shit
|
| Because my freestyle reigns sovereign
|
| Wit a deeper conscious than the prophet muhammad was born wit
|
| My brain cavity is enormous
|
| My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the 7 sharveous
|
| While the right one harnesses darkness
|
| The type of dark that makes a house haunted
|
| The type of dark that people get lost in The type of dark you fear when youre dead in your coffin
|
| I hear you talkin but I ignore it Cause you garbage and your rhymes borin
|
| So keep standin on the corner,
|
| The thrash-man will collect you in the mornin
|
| Thug cats frontin
|
| Wacker than blinky blink
|
| On the back of the wack-ass wagon babblin about — nothin
|
| Now that real hood rats could get it on, black
|
| Meet me at the tunnel where pussy cats get robbed at Rubber faced rappers get stretched like elastic claymation
|
| Characters with verbal vernaculars
|
| Slappin ya like a white water raft
|
| Or an olympic kayak paddlin across the — niagara
|
| Fake mcs haul ass like they runnin track
|
| Where ever canibus or rakim is at
|
| (canibus) let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) naw, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) ra, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) naw, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) naw, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) ra, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) naw, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) naw, ima punish em
|
| (canibus) come on ra, let me bust em
|
| (rakim) yo bis, ima punish em
|
| (rakim)
|
| Be ready and at ya best
|
| The celebrity match of death
|
| Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest
|
| Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath
|
| Then I asked the ref, «how many cats is left? |
| «One on one, who challenging? |
| come get did
|
| All I have is a pen and punish you kids
|
| Abdomen punctured and look what I did to his wig
|
| Wanna live then I stab em in the lung with his rib
|
| Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine
|
| Rematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime
|
| Get your snot-box smashed with a 9
|
| Smacked with a rhyme, push your forehead to the back of your mind
|
| Try to explain what its like seeing your brain
|
| Your insane, soon to be ided as remains
|
| Then I reincarnate em and kill em again
|
| Again and again, again and again
|
| (canibus):
|
| Yo, yo.
|
| The battle started with a grapple
|
| He had real long hair so a grabbed a hand full
|
| And chopped em in the adams-apple
|
| His partner in back of you tried to attack you
|
| So ima twist em up like a pret-zel then ima tag you
|
| (rakim):
|
| Im on some stone cold shit
|
| Warn your whole click
|
| Cartilage get blown until the whole bone split
|
| Who wanna spit, bang quick, strangle em wit his lip he tried to flip
|
| But I left his body danglin
|
| (canibus):
|
| You left em danglin
|
| I cant believe he wanna grapple again
|
| I swung em around like I was dancing wit em Put his arms in back of his head and snapped em again
|
| Then I grabbed his limbs and put in the figure-«6 subtracted from 10»
|
| (rakim):
|
| Seven birds, make em swerve til their vision is blurred
|
| Turn cats that suped from superb to nerds
|
| Just say the word, Ill leave your dna on the curb
|
| And stick my dick in your ear and fuck what you heard |