[Intro: Canibus]
Yea, yea Can-I-Bus, Mic Club
(Nothing to Prove, it's all love)
[Canibus]
I bust through like Sputnik 2
This is man's best friend, whoopty-woo
The flag is black, red, and blue
Troops shoot from the hooptie, dogs jump out of dually
But it take more than that to move me; like
Wireless mics for tireless nights
Firefights inspire my life, why do I write?
Twenty year Hip-Hop vet
They perceive me as a threat
They manifest beads o' sweat
Examine the blood trail
Squeeze triggers, puss drip out o' the thumbnails
I smell like gun shells
Polonium pandemonium with a dose o' unknownium
The Soviet Hugo Rodier
Fourth-generation Roper Report
Everything I was taught bore a resemblance to my thoughts
The truth and design of the Guggenheim rhyme
Where every line is weaponized then applied
Mob shit, target acquisition is sick
I don't miss when I twist the 556
Stand there with arms folded, firearms make me look large and bloated
("I'ma gonna have to project my voice")
Equipment check, church bells chime
("Some of this stuff might get intense")
One more time
Just kill 'em 'Bus
Ain't nobody around to witness nothin'
Heaven's Devil strangle Hell's Angel with a mic cable
Then J. Wells came through
[Sample from Nas @ the L.A. Listening Party on December 14th, 2006. There are two voices.]
Voice 1: "Yo, the niggas that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like; B.I.G., 'Pac..."
Voice 2: "Right"
Voice 1: "...Even Canibus, like, Eminem but them niggas got me like..."
Voice 2: "If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
"Voice 1: "Yo, the niggas that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like; B.I.G., 'Pac..."
Voice 2: "Right"
Voice 1: "...Even Canibus, like, Eminem but them niggas got me like..."
Voice 2: "If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
[Canibus]
Yea, yo
I support a secure change of custody, don't trust the beat
Trust me: Canibus the emcee
Without moving my neck I turn to the left
Yes I am the best, you will learn to respect
Till your death, Hip-Hop is the body, you are the chest
I am the vest, we are sworn to protect
This behavioral bomb, rewritable radio songs
"What station is your radio on?"
My training is worth millions
Imam death squads rush the building
From the front line with Prince William
I am Prince Williams!
Exercise cover and concealment
Prohibit the media from filmin'
Never in the moment, always thinkin' of the omen
Our poor soldiers, nobody told 'em
Inoculate; I postulate not to wait
Drop to your face, the active component will not break
My Armenian friend tried to pay me in Yen
I threw the money in his face and said "Pay me again"
You wanna talk to the kid? Enter this ten digit grid
I'll explain to you what I did
Seven oh two, three eight six, five three nine seven, call, leave a message
Y'all niggas can't rap, so why you wanna go and do that?
You move the crowd, I move the map
The defiant mad lion triumph over the rulers of Zion
Fuck your Blood Diamonds, I'd rather laugh dyin'
Miners in the mineshaft cryin'
Apocalypto from GITMO, I clash with the last Mayans
The Sunstone science
The black, red, and blue alliance
Jump through the fire, you'd be a fool to try it
The fire suit don't fit, NO SHIT!
My Saratoga suit got a customized grip
With a batwing released from both wrist and both feet
Blazin' hot, but I don't feel no heat
Hip-Hop's master chief, "Here, have a seat"
In the mic booth where I hang slabs of meat
Before, during, and after the debrief I'll crack your teeth
Don't talk unless you asked to speak
The Rift Valley fever symptoms could last for weeks
We call a hell in a cell, watch the bastard tweak
Reach 80° degrees North, 14° degrees East
Beneath the ice sheet lies the Spitsberg Beast
Transmission distorted, injuries reported, mission aborted
Follow your orders, move forward
BRAVO!
I fell in love with Suzanne Malveaux
On the down-low, now you know
She talked to the Canibus man
Code name: Javelin Fangz
With 'Nothing to Prove' to the rap fans
Could elaborate further, but suffice to say
"Goddamn that emcee made my day"
He's a butcher, a baker, a vapor box maker from Jamaica
Still talkin' trash to the haters
I clash with the greatest
This is major manual labor, beta test the data with blue lasers
Canibus wave analysis, 'Nothing to Lose' in Los Angeles
Suing Hip-Hop for the damages
G-force: 10.4
Still conscious, but not for long
Missile lock-on, stop the song
Yea, yea Can-I-Bus, Mic Club
(Nothing to Prove, it's all love)
[Canibus]
I bust through like Sputnik 2
This is man's best friend, whoopty-woo
The flag is black, red, and blue
Troops shoot from the hooptie, dogs jump out of dually
But it take more than that to move me; like
Wireless mics for tireless nights
Firefights inspire my life, why do I write?
Twenty year Hip-Hop vet
They perceive me as a threat
They manifest beads o' sweat
Examine the blood trail
Squeeze triggers, puss drip out o' the thumbnails
I smell like gun shells
Polonium pandemonium with a dose o' unknownium
The Soviet Hugo Rodier
Fourth-generation Roper Report
Everything I was taught bore a resemblance to my thoughts
The truth and design of the Guggenheim rhyme
Where every line is weaponized then applied
Mob shit, target acquisition is sick
I don't miss when I twist the 556
Stand there with arms folded, firearms make me look large and bloated
("I'ma gonna have to project my voice")
Equipment check, church bells chime
("Some of this stuff might get intense")
One more time
Just kill 'em 'Bus
Ain't nobody around to witness nothin'
Heaven's Devil strangle Hell's Angel with a mic cable
Then J. Wells came through
[Sample from Nas @ the L.A. Listening Party on December 14th, 2006. There are two voices.]
Voice 1: "Yo, the niggas that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like; B.I.G., 'Pac..."
Voice 2: "Right"
Voice 1: "...Even Canibus, like, Eminem but them niggas got me like..."
Voice 2: "If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
"Voice 1: "Yo, the niggas that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like; B.I.G., 'Pac..."
Voice 2: "Right"
Voice 1: "...Even Canibus, like, Eminem but them niggas got me like..."
Voice 2: "If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"
[Canibus]
Yea, yo
I support a secure change of custody, don't trust the beat
Trust me: Canibus the emcee
Without moving my neck I turn to the left
Yes I am the best, you will learn to respect
Till your death, Hip-Hop is the body, you are the chest
I am the vest, we are sworn to protect
This behavioral bomb, rewritable radio songs
"What station is your radio on?"
My training is worth millions
Imam death squads rush the building
From the front line with Prince William
I am Prince Williams!
Exercise cover and concealment
Prohibit the media from filmin'
Never in the moment, always thinkin' of the omen
Our poor soldiers, nobody told 'em
Inoculate; I postulate not to wait
Drop to your face, the active component will not break
My Armenian friend tried to pay me in Yen
I threw the money in his face and said "Pay me again"
You wanna talk to the kid? Enter this ten digit grid
I'll explain to you what I did
Seven oh two, three eight six, five three nine seven, call, leave a message
Y'all niggas can't rap, so why you wanna go and do that?
You move the crowd, I move the map
The defiant mad lion triumph over the rulers of Zion
Fuck your Blood Diamonds, I'd rather laugh dyin'
Miners in the mineshaft cryin'
Apocalypto from GITMO, I clash with the last Mayans
The Sunstone science
The black, red, and blue alliance
Jump through the fire, you'd be a fool to try it
The fire suit don't fit, NO SHIT!
My Saratoga suit got a customized grip
With a batwing released from both wrist and both feet
Blazin' hot, but I don't feel no heat
Hip-Hop's master chief, "Here, have a seat"
In the mic booth where I hang slabs of meat
Before, during, and after the debrief I'll crack your teeth
Don't talk unless you asked to speak
The Rift Valley fever symptoms could last for weeks
We call a hell in a cell, watch the bastard tweak
Reach 80° degrees North, 14° degrees East
Beneath the ice sheet lies the Spitsberg Beast
Transmission distorted, injuries reported, mission aborted
Follow your orders, move forward
BRAVO!
I fell in love with Suzanne Malveaux
On the down-low, now you know
She talked to the Canibus man
Code name: Javelin Fangz
With 'Nothing to Prove' to the rap fans
Could elaborate further, but suffice to say
"Goddamn that emcee made my day"
He's a butcher, a baker, a vapor box maker from Jamaica
Still talkin' trash to the haters
I clash with the greatest
This is major manual labor, beta test the data with blue lasers
Canibus wave analysis, 'Nothing to Lose' in Los Angeles
Suing Hip-Hop for the damages
G-force: 10.4
Still conscious, but not for long
Missile lock-on, stop the song
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