| 作曲 : G. Williams | |
| (OVERLAP 1) | |
| 'I'll battle you on the net, I'll battle you in the flesh | |
| I'll battle you over the phone you can call me collect' | |
| 'Verbally viscious, telekenetically gifted, | |
| Took a minute to exhibit that I'm sick with it' | |
| 'Have you any idea what I'll do to crews like you | |
| How many niggaz in my career I've ran through' | |
| 'At 1000 degrees celsius I make Emcees melt, | |
| Fuck my record label I appear courtesy of myself' | |
| 'Canibus is the type to fight for mics, | |
| beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life' | |
| 'While you niggaz is babblin' my lyrics is travelin' | |
| like a javelin to stab you in the abdomen' | |
| 'The intellectual athelete accurately rappin' so rapidly, | |
| Yet he makes perfect sense mathematically' | |
| 'I walk the B-Lock withe the G-Lock, C-ocked, | |
| trynna' get the DR-op on the C-ops' | |
| 'The Canibus is a animal with a mechanical mandible | |
| comin' to damage you spittin' understandable slang at you' | |
| 'Rhymes richocet off the inner walls of my lungs | |
| and go past the tongue faster than bullets come out of guns | |
| 'Whenever the head is severed from the human body | |
| with a sharp enough weapon the brain remains conscious for 10 seconds' | |
| 'What's the matter with ya'll, I'll spatter ya'll, | |
| against the muthafuckin' wall with these raw lyrics I catapault | |
| 'I'll hop into the back seat of a cab and rhyme, | |
| Till the meter says 9, 9, 9, 9!!!' | |
| (Verse 1) | |
| Yea, it's the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo! | |
| I'm hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores | |
| To every single pore in my skull | |
| Hard from my mouth to my jaws | |
| ]From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored | |
| And from my balls in my draws to the floor | |
| I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War | |
| So I can start World War 4 and murder us all | |
| I don't give a fuck if you rich or you poor | |
| Don't give a fuck if you got ya' picture in the Source of Forbes | |
| I don't give a fuck who won an award | |
| On stage tryna' thank God I'll chop ya' tongue off wit' a sword | |
| Let they blood pour all on the floor | |
| If it ain't a cordless, you gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord | |
| I'll leave ya' corpse stiff as a board | |
| Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury you under the morge | |
| Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car | |
| Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn | |
| By the time you hear it blowin', it's too late to respond | |
| By the time you feel it hit chu, I'm gone | |
| I'll send ya' to hell where you belong | |
| So by the time ya' body hits the floor | |
| Ya' spirit won't be in it no more | |
| Who could flow for 4 minutes or more | |
| Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws | |
| I got millions of styles and I mastered'em all | |
| A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bullcharge and crash in the wall | |
| (OVERLAP 2) | |
| 'Whoever grabs the mic after me'll get booed | |
| Get everything in the club thrown at you and ya' crew' | |
| 'I'm the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it, | |
| I'll snatch ya' crown with ya' head still attached to it' | |
| 'I battle you the respect, I'll battle you over a blank check | |
| I'll battle you with a gun to my neck' | |
| 'Ambushin' emcees, jumpin' out the trees like Vietnamese | |
| in fatigues covered with leaves' | |
| 'Next year, you'll be walkin' around the 'How Can I Be Down' | |
| conference with a laminate, that said 'I Got Shitted-On By Canibus'' | |
| 'Turn ya' head round gimmie the cheddar, | |
| I'd rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever' | |
| 'Fuck ya'll, you don't impress me and no one can test me, | |
| an emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me' | |
| (Verse 2) | |
| Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on | |
| Debatin' on what the fuck is takin' so long | |
| Well I'm here now, verbal ass whippins bout to get shared out | |
| Wack niggas bout to get aired out | |
| Faggit niggas get they ass teared out | |
| Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out | |
| Cold beat a niggas ass like Stout | |
| Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out | |
| A hundred thousand mile warranty | |
| Metaphorically, I'll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally | |
| I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority | |
| Smacked him in the head for trynna' roar at me | |
| Lyrics got my undivided loyalty | |
| And there ain't nothin' on this God damn planet that's worth more to me | |
| In the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me | |
| Torture me, slice me then stitch me up like embroidery | |
| Way back before gold-plated male and female | |
| RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback | |
| I was trynna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack? | |
| I'd beat his ass and took my tape back | |
| 'Yea nigga' [smack] 'What? Yeah nigga take that' | |
| Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped | |
| Quick fast, the Can-I-Bus'll buss yo' ass | |
| Then I'll bust you wit' a shotgun blast | |
| It's not fun so I don't laugh | |
| To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one | |
| You know how you be feelin' sad | |
| That's how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don't understand | |
| Canibus is unequivocably the illest killin' machine in the industry | |
| For the 20th century | |
| Trapped in a max security building | |
| Sufferin' from a severe illness called brillance (echoes) |
| zuo qu : G. Williams | |
| OVERLAP 1 | |
| ' I' ll battle you on the net, I' ll battle you in the flesh | |
| I' ll battle you over the phone you can call me collect' | |
| ' Verbally viscious, telekenetically gifted, | |
| Took a minute to exhibit that I' m sick with it' | |
| ' Have you any idea what I' ll do to crews like you | |
| How many niggaz in my career I' ve ran through' | |
| ' At 1000 degrees celsius I make Emcees melt, | |
| Fuck my record label I appear courtesy of myself' | |
| ' Canibus is the type to fight for mics, | |
| beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life' | |
| ' While you niggaz is babblin' my lyrics is travelin' | |
| like a javelin to stab you in the abdomen' | |
| ' The intellectual athelete accurately rappin' so rapidly, | |
| Yet he makes perfect sense mathematically' | |
| ' I walk the BLock withe the GLock, Cocked, | |
| trynna' get the DRop on the Cops' | |
| ' The Canibus is a animal with a mechanical mandible | |
| comin' to damage you spittin' understandable slang at you' | |
| ' Rhymes richocet off the inner walls of my lungs | |
| and go past the tongue faster than bullets come out of guns | |
| ' Whenever the head is severed from the human body | |
| with a sharp enough weapon the brain remains conscious for 10 seconds' | |
| ' What' s the matter with ya' ll, I' ll spatter ya' ll, | |
| against the muthafuckin' wall with these raw lyrics I catapault | |
| ' I' ll hop into the back seat of a cab and rhyme, | |
| Till the meter says 9, 9, 9, 9!!!' | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Yea, it' s the CQuel, the CQuel, Yo! | |
| I' m hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores | |
| To every single pore in my skull | |
| Hard from my mouth to my jaws | |
| From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored | |
| And from my balls in my draws to the floor | |
| I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War | |
| So I can start World War 4 and murder us all | |
| I don' t give a fuck if you rich or you poor | |
| Don' t give a fuck if you got ya' picture in the Source of Forbes | |
| I don' t give a fuck who won an award | |
| On stage tryna' thank God I' ll chop ya' tongue off wit' a sword | |
| Let they blood pour all on the floor | |
| If it ain' t a cordless, you gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord | |
| I' ll leave ya' corpse stiff as a board | |
| Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury you under the morge | |
| Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car | |
| Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn | |
| By the time you hear it blowin', it' s too late to respond | |
| By the time you feel it hit chu, I' m gone | |
| I' ll send ya' to hell where you belong | |
| So by the time ya' body hits the floor | |
| Ya' spirit won' t be in it no more | |
| Who could flow for 4 minutes or more | |
| Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws | |
| I got millions of styles and I mastered' em all | |
| A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bullcharge and crash in the wall | |
| OVERLAP 2 | |
| ' Whoever grabs the mic after me' ll get booed | |
| Get everything in the club thrown at you and ya' crew' | |
| ' I' m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it, | |
| I' ll snatch ya' crown with ya' head still attached to it' | |
| ' I battle you the respect, I' ll battle you over a blank check | |
| I' ll battle you with a gun to my neck' | |
| ' Ambushin' emcees, jumpin' out the trees like Vietnamese | |
| in fatigues covered with leaves' | |
| ' Next year, you' ll be walkin' around the ' How Can I Be Down' | |
| conference with a laminate, that said ' I Got ShittedOn By Canibus'' | |
| ' Turn ya' head round gimmie the cheddar, | |
| I' d rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever' | |
| ' Fuck ya' ll, you don' t impress me and no one can test me, | |
| an emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me' | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on | |
| Debatin' on what the fuck is takin' so long | |
| Well I' m here now, verbal ass whippins bout to get shared out | |
| Wack niggas bout to get aired out | |
| Faggit niggas get they ass teared out | |
| Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out | |
| Cold beat a niggas ass like Stout | |
| Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out | |
| A hundred thousand mile warranty | |
| Metaphorically, I' ll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally | |
| I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority | |
| Smacked him in the head for trynna' roar at me | |
| Lyrics got my undivided loyalty | |
| And there ain' t nothin' on this God damn planet that' s worth more to me | |
| In the name of HipHop niggas could corner me | |
| Torture me, slice me then stitch me up like embroidery | |
| Way back before goldplated male and female | |
| RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback | |
| I was trynna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack? | |
| I' d beat his ass and took my tape back | |
| ' Yea nigga' smack ' What? Yeah nigga take that' | |
| Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped | |
| Quick fast, the CanIBus' ll buss yo' ass | |
| Then I' ll bust you wit' a shotgun blast | |
| It' s not fun so I don' t laugh | |
| To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one | |
| You know how you be feelin' sad | |
| That' s how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don' t understand | |
| Canibus is unequivocably the illest killin' machine in the industry | |
| For the 20th century | |
| Trapped in a max security building | |
| Sufferin' from a severe illness called brillance echoes |
| zuò qǔ : G. Williams | |
| OVERLAP 1 | |
| ' I' ll battle you on the net, I' ll battle you in the flesh | |
| I' ll battle you over the phone you can call me collect' | |
| ' Verbally viscious, telekenetically gifted, | |
| Took a minute to exhibit that I' m sick with it' | |
| ' Have you any idea what I' ll do to crews like you | |
| How many niggaz in my career I' ve ran through' | |
| ' At 1000 degrees celsius I make Emcees melt, | |
| Fuck my record label I appear courtesy of myself' | |
| ' Canibus is the type to fight for mics, | |
| beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life' | |
| ' While you niggaz is babblin' my lyrics is travelin' | |
| like a javelin to stab you in the abdomen' | |
| ' The intellectual athelete accurately rappin' so rapidly, | |
| Yet he makes perfect sense mathematically' | |
| ' I walk the BLock withe the GLock, Cocked, | |
| trynna' get the DRop on the Cops' | |
| ' The Canibus is a animal with a mechanical mandible | |
| comin' to damage you spittin' understandable slang at you' | |
| ' Rhymes richocet off the inner walls of my lungs | |
| and go past the tongue faster than bullets come out of guns | |
| ' Whenever the head is severed from the human body | |
| with a sharp enough weapon the brain remains conscious for 10 seconds' | |
| ' What' s the matter with ya' ll, I' ll spatter ya' ll, | |
| against the muthafuckin' wall with these raw lyrics I catapault | |
| ' I' ll hop into the back seat of a cab and rhyme, | |
| Till the meter says 9, 9, 9, 9!!!' | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Yea, it' s the CQuel, the CQuel, Yo! | |
| I' m hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores | |
| To every single pore in my skull | |
| Hard from my mouth to my jaws | |
| From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored | |
| And from my balls in my draws to the floor | |
| I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War | |
| So I can start World War 4 and murder us all | |
| I don' t give a fuck if you rich or you poor | |
| Don' t give a fuck if you got ya' picture in the Source of Forbes | |
| I don' t give a fuck who won an award | |
| On stage tryna' thank God I' ll chop ya' tongue off wit' a sword | |
| Let they blood pour all on the floor | |
| If it ain' t a cordless, you gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord | |
| I' ll leave ya' corpse stiff as a board | |
| Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury you under the morge | |
| Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car | |
| Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn | |
| By the time you hear it blowin', it' s too late to respond | |
| By the time you feel it hit chu, I' m gone | |
| I' ll send ya' to hell where you belong | |
| So by the time ya' body hits the floor | |
| Ya' spirit won' t be in it no more | |
| Who could flow for 4 minutes or more | |
| Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws | |
| I got millions of styles and I mastered' em all | |
| A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bullcharge and crash in the wall | |
| OVERLAP 2 | |
| ' Whoever grabs the mic after me' ll get booed | |
| Get everything in the club thrown at you and ya' crew' | |
| ' I' m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it, | |
| I' ll snatch ya' crown with ya' head still attached to it' | |
| ' I battle you the respect, I' ll battle you over a blank check | |
| I' ll battle you with a gun to my neck' | |
| ' Ambushin' emcees, jumpin' out the trees like Vietnamese | |
| in fatigues covered with leaves' | |
| ' Next year, you' ll be walkin' around the ' How Can I Be Down' | |
| conference with a laminate, that said ' I Got ShittedOn By Canibus'' | |
| ' Turn ya' head round gimmie the cheddar, | |
| I' d rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever' | |
| ' Fuck ya' ll, you don' t impress me and no one can test me, | |
| an emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me' | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on | |
| Debatin' on what the fuck is takin' so long | |
| Well I' m here now, verbal ass whippins bout to get shared out | |
| Wack niggas bout to get aired out | |
| Faggit niggas get they ass teared out | |
| Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out | |
| Cold beat a niggas ass like Stout | |
| Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out | |
| A hundred thousand mile warranty | |
| Metaphorically, I' ll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally | |
| I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority | |
| Smacked him in the head for trynna' roar at me | |
| Lyrics got my undivided loyalty | |
| And there ain' t nothin' on this God damn planet that' s worth more to me | |
| In the name of HipHop niggas could corner me | |
| Torture me, slice me then stitch me up like embroidery | |
| Way back before goldplated male and female | |
| RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback | |
| I was trynna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack? | |
| I' d beat his ass and took my tape back | |
| ' Yea nigga' smack ' What? Yeah nigga take that' | |
| Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped | |
| Quick fast, the CanIBus' ll buss yo' ass | |
| Then I' ll bust you wit' a shotgun blast | |
| It' s not fun so I don' t laugh | |
| To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one | |
| You know how you be feelin' sad | |
| That' s how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don' t understand | |
| Canibus is unequivocably the illest killin' machine in the industry | |
| For the 20th century | |
| Trapped in a max security building | |
| Sufferin' from a severe illness called brillance echoes |
Similar Songs
YouTube Results (More on YouTube)