[Canibus]
A n***a off the street can't control his stardom
A Senator can't walk like a thug from Harlem
Therein lies the problem, nothing to do with being an artist
Even the heartless tell it from the heart, Bis
I'm quite cathartic, writing rhymes smelling my armpits
Drawing designs for my starship
Laying in the poem, insects crawling out of my clothes
A stream of vomit pours out of my nose
Body gases decompose, can't find a hole?
Then explode, we be picking pieces off a the road
I'm a 'Buffalo Soldier' with buffalo rhymes
I make buffalo wings out of buffalo hides
Bacteriophage growing in my garage
In the form of rhymes I will warn you one time
Unimaginable, track you through your longitude and latitude
Just to ask you what the fuck is the matter with you
Old school, new school, no school rules
But other than that you a motherfucking fool
Canibus spitting completely detached from the human condition
'Cause what a Ripper spits is usually different
You better sober up, your battle rap moment is up
You can't write songs, I'm telling you it's holding you up
With the knowledge landline built into Can's mind
He can control time, but not just yet, let him rhyme
Wanna battle n***a, set up a time
You gotta bring it to the SpitBoss
That's how we settle it right
Otherwise you can suck my dick and eat shit
From a dike, you can't take nothing from me on the mic
What you talking about Willis you ain't no lyricist
Bis is the illest, with every stroke I'll be killing your spirit
As we exhibit lyrical fitness, everybody watching and listening
I'm the only one that's not paying attention
Still spitting freestyles or ill writtens there's something you missing
You never put an album out but you quitting
How intelligent is that, you can't rap
They used to call you the best, now you can't get it back
I don't just spit rap, I'm on some spiritual shit
Took it so far the blue marks are still where I used to sit
Undisturbed unheard of structures under the Earth
I don't know what to look for first, if you want we can search
Don't know what I'm looking for, but I know what it's worth
I know what I wanna say and what I want from the verse
This is something when I was young that I learnt
How to spit like Dirt McGirt, catch the Holy Ghost in church
Would you care to have to Hors d'œuvres or more metaphors and words
With the way you still rhyme, I'm concerned
That you Paranoid Chillin'
Illing and killing the skill is in the lyrics, Sick Since what you feeling?